Letters to garden makers

Dear Monty, I have been reading a Christmas gift during a period of enforced rest due to a small operation : And it has made me think. Rory Stuart introduces us to the question posed on the jacket of his book in his first chapter, where he focuses on the health giving and spiritual aspects of gardens, one of the passages which struck a chord with me was this : ' Children are often particularly sensitive to what we might clumsily call the spiritual emanations of nature, perhaps because they are uninstructed in science. ' This reliance on scientific analysis of every aspect of life has grown in intensity since the 'enlightenment'. As I have said before, we have all benefited in our physical lives from the advances made, and I'm not saying we should go back to ignorance. Stuart though poses a question which highlights our disconnect from our spiritual selves, only to swiftly move on in succeeding chapters to an almost scientific analysis/critiq

Monty, Sometimes I get lost among the trees in the forest of opinion. Trees of different colour, size and shape; some barbed and tangled, others tall and straight. All trees, yes but all an expression of difference. There is a multiplicity of opinions, views and beliefs. The human mind is an incredible source of invention and creativity as well as one of hatred and mistrust. It is this forested garden of contradictions I push through almost daily. My mind is sometimes a confused garden, that is the truth. This confusion has recently been mirrored in debates on what gardening TV should look like. I'm glad the debate is happening, but am worried that the simplicity of being in contact with natural things, and marking the seasons which I think GW does well may become lost. I'm glad you replied so succinctly on  thephysicblog.blogspot.co.uk  and appreciate how hard it is to cater for so many different tastes and views. It is their multiplicity which is so bewilderi

Dear Monty, A dark day. The weather reflects the sombre mood in the valley. I am looking forward to the evening debate in London in February being organised by Lucy Masters via  thinkingardens.co.uk . I will sit quietly in awe of those who know more than me. I constantly struggle (as you now well know) with my self worth. There has always been something holding me back it seems, but these are just vapid thoughts. I know that I am linked to something greater outside of all these anxieties about being able to keep up with the latest thing. What I mean is there is more to life than that, and we get little glimpses of it every now and then, and I think gardens and art can lift us out of the awfulness of the thought of life being empty. This is the true value of making things, whether it be a painting, knitting a jumper, cooking a meal for friends, writing or making a garden. I worry a bit when it all becomes too pretentious. Gardening and creativity connect us to something out

Monty, There is a fear abroad about fixed and certain ideas or beliefs, but at the same time a deep longing for certainty in our lives. To have a fixed belief outside of science, is seen as a flaw. All our attempts at pinning down the mechanics of this living orb and the forces within and around it always get superseded. Ideas change continually. What is deemed true today will be seen not to be wholly true tomorrow. The questioning and unsettling of the sediments of our lives without any period of stability make us feel uneasy and prompt us to find fixed points. We need a sense of permanence in order to live. Even those of us who have no belief in a God see the benefit of having boundaries to our lives, fixed reference points which give a sense of safety. Talking about God arouses so many conflicting emotions from anger in regard to the suppression and hatred religion can stir up, to bliss in having an anchor point in a seemingly labile and turbulent world. With the

Dear Monty, I feel a bit lost, floating in the blogging sea. This all started innocently enough, friends encouraged me to share some of my journal ramblings and so I did. I wrote to you because I have spent a great chunk of my life watching TV, and because I love gardening. I have watched GW for years. What really made me write to you specifically though were your thoughts on depression shared in your book 'The Jewel Garden', and I identify with the fact that gardens can be places of healing. But of late I have found a sense of inferiority and dissatisfaction creeping into my mind. I have just got in after clearing up the mossy grass of its oak leaves, which made the space look messy. It is a bit like hoovering a carpet, all looks clean and fresh afterwards. The messiness is compounded by it being such a small garden space. It was this thought that turned on a light bulb in my messy head, why am I worrying about my garden being small ? Small man syndrome ?? I feel

Dear Monty, It seems that whatever cause we believe in there are many more convinced that what we believe in is wrong. This right and wrong, this tension is just a part of what it is to be human. Was the past better than the present ? And will the future be different ? Well it seems that we remain the same, our basic instincts, moods and emotions remain unchanged, even if the context changes. I will miss your presence on Twitter. I think we should all have a voice and Twitter allows for that even if it does open us up to critics. I have been painting and drawing a lot recently due to having sick leave. I haven't done so much work since my time at Artspace Portsmouth. I miss being a full-time artist. I want to confess that I was wrong about conceptual art in a previous post. Why do I say that ? I suggested that the idea being the main thing was somehow the antithesis to beauty. Having watched Tracey Emin discuss the work of Louise Bourgeois and her explora

Monty, No words today, just pictures taken on my phone of a lovely weekend re balancing the mind. Paul.

Monty, Dreams become like mists that disappear. I have made a painting of the Quarme valley near Wheddon Cross on Exmoor. It is a painting of a memory of the place. It tries to capture the strange sense of humanity - of its human scale - its sense of man and landscape working together. The river valley is surrounded by cattle and sheep grazed hills. The high moor lit by sudden light in the distance - the depth and darkness of the river cutting its way through the hills.The sky with its fast shifting clouds. I'm not sure of its merit, other than it pleases me when I look at it. I have started a series of  these paintings, all fresco (watercolour, oil, pencil on plaster) based on our recent visit to Exmoor. Sketches were made in my journal and used as a basis for the paintings along with my written notes. They are a reflection therefore on the place, and not an accurate depiction. Having listened to a voice from my Portsmouth Polytechnic ar

Dear Monty, The recent rumblings in the social media networks about GW are probably justified in that it is the only mainstream gardening programme available to those people that still watch a television. Technology is moving faster than I care to these days, so I still enjoy the slower pace of such programmes on t.v. Even if occasionally it sends me to sleep. 'Real' gardeners don't watch GW I am reliably informed, so that confirms my suspicion that I am only a gardener in my fantasy life. Here are a few pictures of my garden that I do not garden, taken yesterday in high winds with our ugly house in the background. There is a lot wrong with it, too much grass/weeds now that it has lost the overarching branches of the Pine. It needs reshaping and reforming, this is all part of the enjoyment for me, like making a painting... I am beginning to feel better, my mind no longer in a negative spin, the emotions balanced. Paul.