Original Painting For Sale — Blakeney, North Norfolk, England

Click here to find painting on ebay.

I used to sell paintings quite regularly on ebay. I have a few left outstanding from last year. This one, like many, represents one of my favourite subjects, the beautiful North Norfolk resort of Blakeney in East Anglia.

Copyright Francis Barker 2020

15 Essential things to know before visiting Venice — Delusional Bubble (Reblog)

Venice in Italy is almost something similar to Paris, the capital of France. Even though these two cities don’t really have a lot more to offer than other cities in Italy and France, people generally tend to like them more! (Blaming you darn Hollywood!!) But let’s be a little professional, Venice is extremely beautiful and […]

15 Essential things to know before visiting Venice — Delusional Bubble

*Essential travel guide to Venice.

10 Amazing hidden towns and villages in Ireland — Delusional Bubble (Reblog)

Ireland is one of the most beautiful countries in Europe and the whole world to visit. Most travelers only explore Dublin and move on while the real deal is the rest of the country in small towns and villages (No offense dear Dublin!). If you’re interested to learn more about the most charming towns and […]

10 Amazing hidden towns and villages in Ireland — Delusional Bubble

*Ireland is beautiful, in large part.

Project 3, Exercise 1 – creating mood/atmosphere — Janice Scott – Learning Log (Reblog)

I decided to concentrate on trying to make a painting using the bare minimum of colours – white/black .. greys. This was inspired by a recent short break I had on the North Wales coast. We arrived in the middle of Storm Francis with winds up to 75 mph, the sea was especially violent (we […]

Project 3, Exercise 1 – creating mood/atmosphere — Janice Scott – Learning Log

Above the Arctic circle in Tromso, Norway — Passport Overused (Reblog)

So, I decided to push the envelope even more. Flew to Tromso from Oslo. It was about a two-hour flight. It costs about 90 dollars round trip at the time. Might be more expensive in the coming years. Luckily, there wasn’t any major snowstorm that day. Luck was on my side to visit this part…

via Above the Arctic circle in Tromso, Norway — Passport Overused

Mermaids, more or less. — Reblog

For a coastal region, the north of the Netherlands is peculiarly devoid of mermaid tales. Sure, K. ter Laan has an obligatory mention in his 1930s book, and digs up an old chronicle, and a century earlier M.D. Teenstra emptied out his box with index cards, but the legends are not as rich as those […]

via Mermaids, more or less. —

Carnlough, Northern Ireland

sea-water-harbor-harbour-3631543
Photo by franpics from Pexels

 

Haiku: Giants

sea-rock-giants-hexagon-3631712

Photo by franpics from Pexels

Subscribe to the myth
Smile and laugh at the legend
The giants were here

copyright Francis Barker 2020

Painting: Holkham Beach, North Norfolk, England

Copyright Francis Barker 2020

Poem: Your House

I’d arrived there at noon
stunned by the view
from your window,
that vast sweep of shoreline.
I had earl grey tea, some carrot cake;
you made do with strong coffee.
You said we should talk, walk,
try to mimic the clockwork sanderlings,
laugh at comic turnstones,
all busy birds of the beach

I hadn’t realised
how far we’d walked.
The polar wind which swept us along
brought stinging tears to my eyes,
though little could detract
from the sight of your house
standing steadfast against the shore;
nothing except for the florid face
all cheeky smiles and winks,
that prodding finger in my side

copyright Francis Barker 2012

Mare Incognito (for J) Update

photo of seashore during golden hour
Photo by Avelino Calvar Martinez on Pexels.com

Somewhere between
Southwold and Saltfleet,
that’s all I’m prepared to say.

Where eastern seaboards
lose out each year,
glacial moraines fall away

with no answer to tides
that even kings couldn’t resist.
England crumbling in eye and mind.

Cliffs.
Now that could be a clue
but they’re not too high,

though high enough to sit on
and savour the grey seas,
the view, such as it is.

Does it matter?
Fine days won’t do, not to this mind.
Sea mists, fogs, or battleship skies

which leave enough to be imagined,
whose easterlies cut me into me
whatever I wear—they’re best—

when the only way to keep warm
is to keep moving, jogging
below the sleek aerobatics of herring-

and black-backed gulls,
super-marine harbingers of storm
doing their best to bring life to

Mitchell’s drawings of seaplanes—
and the spitfire.
Such an elegance in death.

But I’m here to forget about war,
about politics which can only
divide and kill.

Grey days mean I’m alone
in a moody make-believe.
I turn my back on all that was,

think about what might be,
where nightmares a few miles away,
that lost world within my right hand,

might just be gone when I return
or answer the bleep which says
I’m connected, branded for life.

Leave me now.
For a little while longer
let me say I’m free

image and poem © copyright Francis Barker 2012