There Is No Self-portrait Of Me.

After Tea It's Back To Painting - A Large Poplar At Dusk With A Gathering Storm. From Time To Time Instead Of This Evening Painting Session I Go Bowling In One Of The Neighbouring Villages, But Not Very Often.

I Have The Gift Of Neither The Spoken Nor The Written Word, Especially If I Have To Say Something About Myself Or My Work. Whoever Wants To Know Something About Me -as An Artist, The Only Notable Thing- Ought To Look Carefully At My Pictures And Try And See In Them What I Am And What I Want To Do.

There Is Nothing That Special To See When Looking At Me.

If The Weather Is Good I Go Into The Nearby Wood - There I Am Painting A Small Beech Forest (in The Sun) With A Few Conifers Mixed In. This Takes Until 8 'o Clock.

I Can Paint And Draw. I Believe This Myself And A Few Other People Say That They Believe This Too. But I'm Not Certain Of Whether It's True.