Faith Puleston
Profile
I am British but live in Herdecke, a small town in Germany
Divorced with 2 children (Fiona 34, David 31)
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.
Groups
Faith Puleston is a member of Abstract Art, AW Welcome Center and Creative Poetry Challenges.
Journal Entries
Rothko's legacy
Posted about 1 year ago, 7 comments so far.
Resolutions
Posted about 1 year ago, 4 comments so far.
Raise your glasses!
Posted about 1 year ago, 7 comments so far.
How (not) to do a painting demonstration
Posted about 1 year ago, 4 comments so far.
Never on a Sunday...
Posted about 1 year ago, 7 comments so far.
Hyperactivity
Posted about 1 year ago, 6 comments so far.
Hunters and collectors unite...
Posted about 1 year ago.
Mother's day
Posted about 1 year ago, 2 comments so far.
Procrastination .....
Posted about 1 year ago, 3 comments so far.
Never on a Sunday?
Posted about 1 year ago.
Art
Writing
Where do they go?
Who can keep a promise of eternity?
Night life
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
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…
Fawn
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…
Vacation
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…
The Turn of the Millenium I
There will be no more Sundays for me ….
