WED: The image we can see on todays blog does little justice to the real thing.

There, I said it on the heading for this post, yet what more can I do.
My hands are tied. I am here poking at the keyboard with my nose.
Joke lang. Lang, is a word I would use frequently the six years I lived in the Philippines.
 Philippines, arr. Named I presume in honour of king Philip of Spain. The people had a tough time under Spanish occupation. Then again it was dreadful for them in the second world war. The Japanese had control of much of the Philippines. Beings that there are over six thousand Islands though , there may have been some that escaped occupation. Umbot lang.

There aren't many advantages to living with a brain injury, but one is the freedom from paid occupation and being able to settle elsewhere other than in England, on a small local government pension. For the last few years though I have been back. My sons are benefiting from a government education, here in England. They are progressing well. My eldest son son was five years old when he first came here and could speak fluent Visayans, the language we spoke in Mindanao, in the southern Philippine Island. His younger brother was four years old and he too could speak both languages. Often their mother and I would go up to our land and the rest house, up the mountain on the edge of the city. Gaga our main helper would look after the boys at our house on the subdivision in the city, and she spoke only a few words of English and so would be constantly speaking to them in the native language! There were an old couple on the subdivision, Peter and Nan Shoton. Peter was a retired merchant seaman from england. Like me Peters first wife had died. They were in their seventies and for a long time we would see them every friday for a meal and a drink. That is us men would sit out side for a drink and a talk. The women would chat inside and see to the food.
There were some bad floods recently and Peter and Nan were swept away and drowned. Funny thing is that I didnt feel sad, as I believe they had had very full  and satisfying lives. My heart goes out more to all the infants and toddlers who had decades ahead of them and of course the parents who survived them to mourn their loss. Blooming heck, how can I get this blog a bit upbeat.

All I can think for now is to show you pictures of the painting done today and of which I am well pleased. I will say though that the photos dont do it justice. If you look at an actual painting and then a  photo of the painting, you will know what I am saying. 
  

This is the latest painting of mine which for today is called, `A homage to Beardsley.` 

I hope that its okay with you if I put loads more photos on now & no words. Its ART.

Bit of an androgynous face! 

Here above and below are shot with

the mirror image effect.

      This one sneaked in from another painting. 

Is it just me, or can you see masked figures with outstretched arms?

I suppose I am stretching out my arms in a way, welcoming you to look at my art and my life. 

I was just thinking of the pain many women go through in childbirth to bring new life into this world. How when my first wife took her own life, the resulting brain injury to me gave me first great physical pain, then psychological and emotional pain. Yet it resulted in a new birth for me in a way. The old  me died with her!

                                    Now all is new.

Blessings and Love be upon you all. Your bro Peter.