I have a new website at www.fapj.net.
I am British but live in Herdecke, a small town in Germany. The “fapj” is all four of my names! Very cumbersome in everyday life….
Divorced with 2 adult children, I was born in Wales and studied singing, piano, composition and music theatre in London. After completing my finals (Recital Diploma), I moved to Europe to learn German and attend theatre auditions. I sang leading roles in opera throughout Europe until I had to drastically curtail my theatre work to concentrate on being a single parent. My activities include translating, teaching, composing and arranging music, coaching rhetoric and voice, running a barbershop chorus, writing professionally for a schoolbook publisher, writing poems and stories for my own pleasure. I came to painting on a regular basis in 2000 and have worked intensively at it since then.
It’s ages since I wrote the above lines, and quite a while since I was a regular visitor to Red Bubble. Actually, it’s quite a while since I painted anything worth posting anywhere and I haven’t been writing, either. After an accident to my painting hand and faced with a few other minor medical problems, my motivation dwindled to almost nothing. Now I am trying to get back on track by changing mediums – to watercolor – and grappling with some of the weaknesses in my work which are immediately uncovered when working in this sensitive and unforgiving medium. Maybe there will be something to post soon. I’ll see what I can find!
Thanks for reading….
Faith Puleston is a member of Abstract Art, AW Welcome Center and Creative Poetry Challenges.
Posted about 1 year ago, 7 comments so far.
Posted about 1 year ago, 4 comments so far.
Posted about 1 year ago, 7 comments so far.
Posted about 1 year ago, 4 comments so far.
Posted about 1 year ago, 7 comments so far.
Posted about 1 year ago, 6 comments so far.
Posted about 1 year ago.
Posted about 1 year ago, 2 comments so far.
Posted about 1 year ago, 3 comments so far.
Posted about 1 year ago.
Who can keep a promise of eternity?
There they go, / hand in hand, / arm in arm. / The hunting season is open. / The chicks are abroad. / The hunters are stalking. / Rivers of champagne / flood the minds. / The party rocks. / Who knows …
Nowhere is the home of the lost souls. / They have detached themselves from self / and started on the journey there. / They have swathed themselves / in cumulus and floated / into the darkest barri…
Sometimes, when you are unawares, / Something is watching you. / Its quiet breath wafts into nothingness, / adrift like the soul of birdsong. / You can sense the stillness / of the flower waiting to b…
Jagged edges of memories scrambling for attention. / The going back to craggy places I once loved / Where voices echo and footsteps lead the way / To a lost paradise. Where are they now? / Are they…
There will be no more Sundays for me ….