Thankyou AI for your insightful comment

It is not often that my blog posts generate comments, but it seems Artificial Intelligence is about to fill the void and step in and with profound insights into my work. A few days ago ''Unknown'' commented as follows on my post, ''The more I seek, the more I find''.

Thank you for sharing The more I seek, the more I find. Reading this piece, I was deeply moved by how discovery often arrives in unexpected corners — in old sketches, in portraits from decades past, in the work we once considered finished and tucked away. Your reflections resonate with me: the way seeking art (or beauty, or truth) never ends, and how what we find enriches our journey, even if it wasn’t what we originally set out for.

I especially loved learning about Pearl and Sam, and how revisiting earlier works opens up fresh insights. It highlights that creativity is never static — it keeps expanding, circling back, revealing more layers.

Thank you also for the gentle reminder about the value in process — letting art evolve, honoring the past, and being open to the surprises that emerge when we simply keep looking. Your work continues to be inspiring and grounding.

With warm appreciation,

I might add that unknown's website was added to the post, presumably in the hopes of promoting the sale of a genuine Buddha statue.

I understand that, in addition to commenting, for a small fee AI can paint a picture to my instructions. This could save me a lot of bother and could even continue to make my presence felt in this world when painting and sculpting angels in the next.

But for the time being, I'll put aside unknown's kind comment and continue painting life in real life.

Today's picture is a sketch I made in the rain over thirty years ago. It turned up when I was delving though portfolios of paintings I made of the village and countryside of my childhood.  

The Queen Victoria Public House, Northowram, Halifax, Yorkshire. 

A genuine original watercolour by Roger Burnett.

Instructions to AI for generating more of the same might read: 

A scribbled blotchy watercolour sketch of an old building in the rain, with chimney pots and trees.

I've a feeling that my brother. who's into this sort of thing, will come up with something.  

I swear to God I'll beat your head in!

 A back street, since demolished, in the West Yorkshire town of Halifax. (Circa  1996)

Sketching from life down dubious back streets can be as dangerous as working in a war zone. Whereas a camera shutter can surreptitiously capture the scene in a split second, the artist is a sitting duck. Fortunately, mine was not the head that a bystander threatened to beat in. On other occasions I've been pelted with stones and cursed for pocking my nose in where it's not wanted. 

But for the most part, my saunters down back streets been tolerated to the extent of being made welcome with a cup of tea.  

A collection of similar sketches can be found in my book Townscapes.

The more I seek, the more I find

 
Pearl (Circa 1989)

Although I cannot forgive AI for invading my blog stats with misleading hits in their thousands, it has never the less provided me with an appropriate meaning for the phrase "The more you seek, the more you find". That being, it can suggest that actively searching for something will inevitably lead to discoveries, even if the results are unexpected or reveal a greater complexity than initially perceived.

Not only has this proved true in my endeavors to find beauty where no one else has thought of looking but also in my current search through past portfolios. My unexpected find of a portrait of Pearl is a case in point. You can find out more about Pearl and her twin sister Pearline in my post "Where is the life that late I led''.

(Note: My model Pearl from the 1980's should not be confused with my model Pearl from 2020's.)

Another unexpected find is an initial sketch I made for my sculpture of Samantha. 

Sam (Circa 1998)

You can find out more about a the model and the sculpture in my post "Sexy Sam".

It's not what I originally intended

A selection of pages from the catalogue.

Work on cataloguing the paintings and sculptures in my series Daughters of the Caribbean Sun is coming along nicely, although not as I originally intended. 

I began with the idea of including all the paintings, sketches, drawings and sculptures that had contributed to the series I began almost forty years ago. But force of numbers overwhelmed me. I have instead condensed the catalogue to work that is representative - that being about a third of the total.

I also originally intended indicating what I consider to be the good, bad and indifferent, expecting that my score card would have a only a few that warranted five stars, whilst the majority clocked in at four, three, two and one star. But within an indifferent painting there there are often passages that, to the eye of the artist and cognoscenti, come close to perfection . The more I looked, the less able I was to differentiate one category from another. As with the exploratory lines of a sketch, all have contributed to the collection as a whole. Hence, none can be discounted. 

I have arranged the condensed catalogue approximately in chronicle order, so as to illustrate how my way of working from the nude has developed. Other than the images, all I have added is an indication of size, the name of the model and a portfolio file record. 

While delving through hundreds of paintings and sketches I have found some gems that I had long forgotten about. These I will share in forthcoming posts.