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Recent Posts

More lumen print experiments…
Lumen print.
Notes from 1-2-1 with Wendy McMurdo
Identifying plant specimens/stories relating to women in botany.
Meeting with designer and printmaker, Pia Östlund.
Inside the Kew Herbarium – The extraordinary legacy of a pressed flower // Toast Magazine

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July ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ With a push of unseen breath in me, I peep into dust Accumulated on the veins of green leaves. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ The blaze of July sun Strikes me, rooted upon the clean-cut heat Of pavement, sharply absolute; ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ And I hunger for a sharper hunger, Actual part of dreamless flare In my eyes. . . . Poem by Bunichi Kagawa, August 1930

Sunshine on sap in Spring. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Yesterday I took a couple of hours off my uni assignments to wander around Wytham Woods with friends and colleagues from the Department of Zoology. The bluebells were incredible, and we also visited a 400 year old Oak Tree. Magic! ✨🌿

Elusive Time. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ In love it may be dangerous to reckon on time to count on it time’s here and then it’s gone I’m not thinking of death or disaster but of the slippage the unpredictable disappearance of days on which we were depending for happiness. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Words by James Laughlin. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ [ Photo from the archive. Taken last year as as part of my recovery journey following major surgery. ]

Toby Sebastian. (2/2) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ This was the first photograph I took that morning whilst assisting @ianwallman. I suppose it could be described as an outtake, but for me it feels like an accurate reflection of a fun and memorable morning.

Fern. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ All morning we had walked along The ledge, hunting for a spring, But only found the killdear song And the darkwood listening. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “It’s queer,” you said, “no stream should flow Out of this rock, at water line. It’s low enough and out of the sun, The kind of place where I have mine. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ If in Vermont I saw a hill With trees, like this, I’d never doubt We’d find, with a plain farmer’s skill, A width of water running out.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ We climbed up where the weathered stone Broke beneath our walking feet When suddenly you found a lone Fern you had never thought to meet ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Far in a foreign west, away From its own kind of living, hurt By the great summer heat all day, Rooted in that unfriendly dirt. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “It’s good”, you said, “to know a plant Wanders as far from home as I. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ We both get used to a different slant Of light out of a familiar sky.” ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Now you are gone, but every time I to that cliff return, You watch for water there and climb, Rolling rock and finding fern. Words by Paul Engle.

Last week I assisted the brilliant @ianwallman who had a portrait shoot with actor and musician @tobysebastian1 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ . Here’s one of the photographs I took of Toby that day. . (Thanks for being such a brilliant mentor Ian, and a huge thanks to Toby too. ✨) . . . #falmouthflexible #falmouthflexiblephoto #falmouthuniversity

March ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ The universe is blowing; A puff-cloud rides in the sky; Out of a place that is very far Wind blows from a star. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Wind blows because it must, Carrying elemental dust; Primordial things are growing; Elemental things are blowing. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ By Amy Bonner . . . Happy Spring Equinox! ✨🌸💕

Invitation to Love ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Come when the nights are bright with stars Or come when the moon is mellow; Come when the sun his golden bars Drops on the hay-field yellow. Come in the twilight soft and gray, Come in the night or come in the day, Come, O love, whene’er you may, And you are welcome, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ You are sweet, O Love, dear Love, You are soft as the nesting dove. Come to my heart and bring it to rest As the bird flies home to its welcome nest. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Come when my heart is full of grief Or when my heart is merry; Come with the falling of the leaf Or with the redd’ning cherry. Come when the year’s first blossom blows, Come when the summer gleams and glows, Come with the winter’s drifting snows, And you are welcome, welcome. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ By Paul Laurence Dunbar

Flowers by the Sea ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ When over the flowery, sharp pasture’s edge, unseen, the salt ocean lifts its form—chicory and daisies tied, released, seem hardly flowers alone but color and the movement—or the shape perhaps—of restlessness, whereas the sea is circled and sways peacefully upon its plantlike stem ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ - Poem by William Carlos Williams

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“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.” ― Anaïs Nin

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