John Waterhouse holds this special place in my heart – his art speaks to the tiny hopeless romantic within me who writes of a fairytaled illusionary version of medieval Europe. Within this world, characters shift and morph but they travel within a sphere that Waterhouse would have gladly painted, I think. He would have given life to the people I write of – certainly the women some of whom come from his images to begin with.

2017 is the centenary of his death and it appears after years of neglect, his website will be re-launched. I hope so – I draw inspiration from his sketches and paintings. This slide show is only a sampling his art. If my photo editor worked, I would have used them as canvases to write quotes on. From my writing, and from others. But, like most things in my life, it doesn’t work properly, and I can’t write – only in minuscule letters and not in shapes – what I want.

I complain a lot. But when I’m this depressed, I can’t put the happy face mask on – it’s like magnets that dis-attract. The mask won’t stick. And I’m tired. Tired of fighting my depression demons, and tired of pretending they aren’t there. I’ve spent a life-time pretending.

Back to Waterhouse. I hope this slide show works – it’s my manic monday gift of art. Of vision. Of my inspiration. If you read my heroine fantasy, I think you’ll recognize the images, not only because I used them as illustration, but because they are within the stories, too.

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