Why I draw…

I have a secret. Actually, it is an old one. It has to be.

You see I’ve been doing it for ages, even in public…

I do it on the grass, in my workshop, in front of my family, in front of strangers.

And all anyone says is – wow. That’s good. Or – I wish I could do that like you. Or sometimes – I would rework it just there.

What is it?

I can only be one thing – my art.

As I draw you, I run my hands around your neck.

I trace along your collarbone and wonder at your form.

If you are being held I am there, just for a moment, my hands working to mould your body, to make you take shape on a blank page.

If you cry, I cry with you. If you are fearful I see you and feel it alongside you. If you are fierce I am a force to be reckoned with. If you want to hide, I tuck you into my hands and hold you tight.

And when I am finished you speak to not just me, but others, and it is their turn to share my secret.

Until then you are mine, and I hold you as close as any lover.


I turned up yesterday with two large plastic boxes. Both are ordinary… Both have black lids. I went back to the car and picked up a striped fabric bag about 3 ft by 3ft.

I walked into the blank space and yelled hello to everyone. I got shouts and waves back. People started to arrive and place their work on the tables. Finally we had over 95 pieces sitting there. Then the magic began.

Slowly we started to get things onto the wall. My art was one of the last… There are very few artists who work almost exclusively in pencil and ink and my grey-scale pieces can be difficult to match with.

The transformations began from an empty room with white walls into a gallery…

My stuff is up as well:

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It took over five hours but finally it was finished and the transformation was complete. Our art group, Celf Canolbarth Cymru, had created a gallery.


If you are close by please visit or have a look at the Facebook page. 

My books are available on Amazon.

And my art in Artfinder.
And please use code KATS-ART-50-B28405 to get a 50% discount!!!

Inspired by the daily prompt – Transformation


I have issues that mean I find it difficult to read other peoples expressions and feelings. What can seem like a fake smile to a someone else I will see as genuine. I can’t see it. I have tried but it is difficult.

I have very little facial recognition and have lost friends because I’ve ‘ignored’ them. I really haven’t. I just didn’t recognise them. So if you see me – give a wave and a yell. Then I will smile and wave and catch up.

But it is the people who don’t tell the truth about their feelings. Those are the people I don’t understand.

They are the ones that can lead to trouble.

I have some real genuine people that watch out for me, but sometimes I go out alone. And when I do I get nervous. I have to stop and breathe. And try to trust I will recognise if someone is being artificial.

I have met some predators in my time, written about most of them. My bad guys are so bad, because they are in real life… Saying that though I love having new experiences, so I continue to go out.

I wish I could tell a fake smile from a real one though. Maybe one day they will make an app for it. Or maybe I will one day have someone with me who can tell me they are lying. Until then I will hope for the best. And smile because I only ever do because I mean it.

Inspired by the daily prompt – artificial 


I had a choice – get a paypal button for the blog so people can ‘donate’ or a Patreon page. I decided to go with Patreon…

It feels better. I offer rewards for what people pledge.

Some will get physical artwork and some digital art.

Have a look…


Money is something I hate to think about. But the world requests it. So here is my attempt to make life a little easier.


There has to be that many artworks I have produced. Some are lost… Like the line of kingfishers I drew on a twig, all fluffy and sulky looking. I moved to Wales and forgot that the picture was in a shop. There they remained and now I have no idea where it is. Did it sell? Did the owner keep it? Did they burn it?

I don’t know. It is a lost artwork.

Then there are the ones I left at colleges and universities. The scraps that I did trying to get to the final piece. I have littered them behind me like a hundred falling leaves.

Sure I have some work from the past, but I can count them on my hands…

Most have been sold.

Some lost.

Some thrown away.

Some left.


All the pencil strokes and paint flicks… Millions of millions. The shavings and empty paint tubes. Bristles from brushes. Ink nibs.

They all litter my life and tell a story of creativity.

I was having a manicure the other day and I started to get self conscious. On my right hand my second finger is slightly twisted and has a build up of bone from all the art I have produced. I apologized.

“I’m an artist.”

She smiled and gave me no reaction…

But I think after all the drawing that was the first time I had admitted to anyone I am an artist in its own right. I say I illustrate my own books but I rarely say I’m an artist.

I write and I’m an artist… That is usual. But this time I left out the writing part. It was strange. And liberating.

What am I?




Can someone be both?

I sure hope so because I am an author. I am an artist.

I have just got a Patreon page for the art – please have a look if you want.

This post was inspired by the daily prompt – Millions



I was out walking with a friend in the New Forest and we were looking at an iron age hill fort. Of course it is in the New Forest so all we can see are trees and maybe a slight rise where the ring had been.

“You know if my mate were here she would find a knapped stone,” I say.

“What?” he asks and gives me a grin.

“A worked stone from the neolithic.”

He just shakes his head.

Then I spy it… Nestled in the path. Not a knapped stone but a flake. Knocked off the main piece. I bend down and dig it out. Then holding it up I present it to him.

He runs a hand over the edge.

“Careful,” I say. “It’ll be sharp.”

He winces as the edge scores his finger, not enough to cut but just the right amount to hurt.


“It would have made a knife,” I say.

He smiles and slips the stone fragment in his pocket. “To remember the walk.”

I smile and we carry on walking, hand in hand.

Sometimes it is the small things and a gift can be something ancient.

A memoir remembered because of the daily prompt – ancient.


Yes, I have decided to put on a winter sale of my artwork on


but it isn’t open to everyone… Nope it is just for you lovely readers and viewers. Everything in the shop is

50% OFF

All you have to do is use this code:


And voila 50% off all the art.

Why? You ask…

Well, basically I’m working on a new set so once the sale is over I will start putting the new stuff up and getting rid of the old (putting it in store). So go have a look.

The code is good until the 18th Jan 2017…

Just two that are available at £49 and they are all original artworks…