Return to Ankerwycke

I was going to post some paintings of fireworks today but almost everything I found was pretty lame. There's more to fireworks to colour and sunburst shapes - where are the movement and the energy and the violence and temperature and the gone-in-a-heartbeat qualities of them?

So anyway, I've been back to Ankerwycke to see what its like in autumn, so you'll have to  make do with that instead!

It still carries an overwhelming sense of strangeness. I know I'm not the only person to think this; people keep leaving things and placing things and rearranging fallen wood so I guess they not only know the strangeness but they like it and choose to add to it. I think I've worked something out about the place; it has the same effect on me as whisky. Whisky is one of very few things I won't drink, because it amplifies my moods. Ankerwycke has this same power; it can draw out my sadness or my curiosity or the simple pleasure I take in being or whatever else I'm feeling.