David Moss

Grateful for a secluded garden, I’ve been painting again since March after becoming unexpectedly unemployed from musical activities. Remembering earlier post-Fine Art degree times of assimilating landscapes of the North York Moors and picking up aesthetic motivations – balance, movement, energy, vitality and hopefully beauty, a new body of work has revealed itself: imaginary conversations between empty chairs, beltane hellfire storms of frustration, ceramic ornamental totemic features slipping in and out of existence, and serene imaginings of wellsprings and bluebells. Gratitude also for the slow-down of life, encouragement of friends and the chance to show these pieces. 

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