Where did you grow up?
I grew up in Kinson, a village outside Bournemouth. I lived with my Mum, and my three brothers A country place, ordinary country people. Hope full.
We played in the fields, and woods and often walked for miles in the country.
Yet one brother died at 17, then Mum came ill, went into hospital, and we children were split into various foster homes. We did come back together a while but it was never satisfactory. Mum was ill, the rest of her life.
Married, single, children?
With my husband, I relocated to the Wales in my mid forties, and it is here I live still.
I was married for 30 years, now my husband is dead, some years.
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I have a daughter, her partner and my grandson who is
5 and three quarters. He is my best boy.
I have good friends.
dogs, cats, animals?
Minnie the little dog,
Precious the cat live heres with me now.
At what age did you discover you had talent or someone told you that you did?
People were always saying that I was artistic, but I only realised it late in life.
As for the writing, I just wrote what I thought and still do. It was others who labelled it.
Hobbies, other interests?
I love visiting old houses, museums, cathedrals and gardens , experiencing the atmosphere there. I enjoy travelling the country.
A fun, unusual fact about you?
I like spoons, and scissors, and have a fine collection of the latter.
Liking old things, the house has been described as an age past, and has been featured on TV.
Your favorite piece?
The Red Coat. I so loved that coat, yet it did not suit me …..
The accomplishment that makes you feel the most proud?
To become an elected member of the Royal Cambrian Acedemy of Art.
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Any setbacks that have affected you?
Oh yes, many if I think about it, but one just has to get on with it. We are just ordinary here.
:: the red coat ::
the red coat
but i saw it.
red it is, worn, shabby.
a friend you say.
lining cream silk crumple.
the back a thin satin sash
oh lovely coat
i love you.
away for coffee
back to the red coat,
tried it, and looked daft in it,
and imagined how it would be
hungry i would wear it,
run on the moor, windy,
a cotton dress beneath,
old boots, and wrap it round me.
night garden, pyjamas,
and the red coat looking
at the moon
slight smell of camphor,
pockets with notes,
and all well, all well.
men will sing with three voices,
and dance in their suits,
and i will be headlost, and dizzy.
leaving the coat
to bathe in pools
of light, under green,
dripping back into
the coat , red coat.
they say i said too much about the coat last night,
and did I look daft, and i will never buy it
but it is already mine,
headed forever, calling it to at will
i will say more, and more, red coat.
I love you red coat.