The joy of your portraits is that they feel so complete, you paint in such subtle tones that a living breathing person emerges full drawn. I never read your essays without feeling I am sitting down with you and am a part of the conversation you are reporting.

So Sarah, is the silence her not knowing what to say. Knowing something, the right thing, needs to be said but lacking the sureness of footing to know what. The fear of not being able to choose from the thousands of wrong things that one little right one that makes says what has to be said.

She is the nomad, but is she running from or searching for. all restless people seem to be either running away from something in themselves or searching for something in themselves (completion) that they cannot yet find. Something just around the bend and over the hill at the end of the rainbow where the fallen star lies. something they cannot find cos they're loking in the wrong place and it's always there beside them.

keep to the Fen Causeway