The Art Paper reported on the 11^th June 2026 that the famous 1959 picture “The Castle in the Pyrenees” by Margritte is undergoing restorative surgery after it was damaged by a child brandishing a pine cone whilst in the Israel Museum.

I suspect this puckish act might have tickled the artist. My imagination went off tangent as this was the day that David Hockney died.

The witty, self-effacing, understated art fascinates and beguiles the mind and heart; I can can contemplate an image and find myself merging with the world of this ingenious artist. I am always excited each time, my heart laughs.

I am reminded of photography when I see his paintings, whether the photograph is blended and deliberately distorted or funny kooky angles shifts creates a different perspective and meaning, yet is still an unadulterated picture, a reflection of a physical “reality”.

I see shades of this perspective in my photography prior to seeing his original “familiar”. Brash loud caveat – under no illusion that I am greater than a beginners mind.

My homage here is titled “Self Portrait” and has a particular significance; when I first saw the result I experienced a giggle niggle that maybe, just maybe, I had something here worth sharing and developing.

Google Images and whether you “like” the imagery or not – you will be amused by the act of looking up and seeing your immediate environment with a Magritte eye and humour.

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Welcome to the dark side, I have a seat reserved for you, without algorithmic comfort or the comforting virtual hand of AI upon your shoulder.

The cliché is our subject; not obviously dark I grant you, yet scratch the surface and beneath the superficial pleasantness and apparent concern for your welfare you will find a sinister subtext. If history is written by the victor, have you considered who penned the cliché?

I have sourced two particular culprits that demonstrate this appearance reality distinction, the duplicity. Both creatures present themselves as benign pipe smoking types, dispensing wisdom with a warm, if slightly paternalistic tone. When in the presence of the benign Uncle type cliché they will distract you by rootering in tweed jacket pockets for liquorice pieces of dubious provenance which they insist you consume.

Remain seated and do not applaud for….

The best things in life are free.

Good things come to those who wait.

They are at the epicentre of subjugation and the perpetuation of structurally embedded and societal discrimination.

You can’t be serious?

Oh, I am. Truly.

Welcome to the dark side, my friend.

The case for the prosecution.

The best things in life are not, and never have been, free.

There are practical, primordial and existential needs such as food, safe shelter, health care. The action orientated such as freedom of movement, expression, body autonomy. The abstract such as a sense of belonging, community, connection. Payment can be the exchange of goods and services, rather than money. All the “free things” are in and of themselves not bad. Yet even love does not conquer all if you are starving, abused, persecuted or indeed dead.

This appearance reality duplicity dovetails into exhibit number two.

Good things come to those who wait masquerades as a fact, yet is purely chance; if by the desired outcome happens it is presented as empirical evidence of the truth of the cliché. Your archetypal straw man. This idea is the apposite of delayed gratification, which is based on strategic thinking, discernment and an internal locus of control, the accountable self.

It is doctrine of submission and passivity; where desire, ambition, seeking understanding, creativity, being in service and/or personal success are eerily akin to a moral deficit.

It matters not if the cliché is steeped in religiosity or of a secular bent, it is still fundamentally magical thinking. Besides which, everything you really need is free and if you are a good little pleb, then you will rewarded handsomely. Avariciousness and desire are not acceptable and you will find yourself sitting on the infinite naughty chair.

The vote, civil liberties, bodily autonomy, individual freedoms, rights are not gifts the powerful may or may not dispense, to be handed out to good girls and boys.

These powerful societal changes were dependent on courageous souls who did not and will not allow injustice, violence and repression to go unchallenged. Think of the thousands who have been imprisoned, tortured, persecuted, ridiculed, past and present? I imagine it is not so relaxing when you are one of those being subjected to kidnap, torture, bombs, starvation, rape, psychological terror and imprisonment. Or just “disappeared”. Sadly one discriminated group can display this practice to another discriminated group.

Why? For the haves to decide when another group of humans can enjoy the same rights as they assume and have all they need to live well?

Houston, we have a problem.

An unsettling tangent emerged from my musings, that of our unwitting embodiment of the appearance reality distinction. If enough of us fall into this trap, and I fear we do, it is a stealth carbon monoxide poisoning of our hearts and minds that creates a fractious, mean-spirited and self-absorbed and serving way of being whether medieval feudal Lord or a member of the serfdom.

What do I mean?

As an example; say a smile represents the cliché the appearance, easily identified as such. Yet we all know that smiles can be nervous, anxious, sinister, condescending, shy, gentle, compassionate, joy shining through the eyes or perched on a vacant face.

The fist raised is the cliché, the appearance, yet it can be threatening aggressive, or humorous and part of a shared joke. Standing in close proximity to another, the cliché the appearance, might be an intimate connection, protective, or a violation of personal space, sexual or threatening. The actual behaviour, what we might agree upon, is not the reality. As humans we mostly recognise this, some with entitlement or power can subvert this deny, gaslit, suggest oversensitivity. The oft repeated refrain of being misinterpreted, that it is all lies and any mea culpa is saddled by measly mouthed complaint towards those who call out this behaviour.

“In the public interest” can be corrupted by prurient minds, journalists, politicians and self styled saviours of our moral, economic and social welfare. The appearance – the cliché is noble, yet the reality? Shouting abuse, hounding people, stalking are instigated to cause a reaction, a contorted face, distress, retaliation. Family members, colleagues and children are not spared. The reaction is used as evidence of culpability, of the guilt, laced with judgement and shaming, rather than a natural reaction to the stalking and harassment.

Are we feeding the machine too, our intrusive entitlement, salaciously indulging in gossip as we tut tut, doom scroll, comment, deride, abuse. Because we are concerned citizens, engaged in the world around us, hapless and oh so naughty, just like everyone else?

Are people in the public eye our personal property, who we can access and demand to know everything. When the politicians, the journalists the influencers, normal members of the public demand to know things instantly, even if this is not possible? Nuance, discernment, privacy binned and the fact that no guarantees of safety, growth and success as this is not how the world operates. Failure to comply are interpreted with either snide passive aggressive suggestions that something is deeply suspicious. Or just repeat, repeat, and repeat whatever accusation and/or with no proof or facts until the appearance is all that matters. Reality a mere fond memory stridency ascends.

Certainty is overrated and a willingness to be curious, embrace the unknown, to actually listen rather than wait until you can pontificate again. Indeed, wait, our own truths are far more interesting and valid, anything else is all fake.

No-one has to join the noisy scrabbling cohort of instant gratification crack news addicts, feeding the monster yet decrying the fact it is growing. Why reject thinking for yourself? Do you need staff or tech to do that for you?

How often do you find pleasure in critiquing people behind their backs, the thrill of being self righteous, innocent, pure of heart? Very often the traits we deplore most are indications of our own hidden blocks. The don’t tell anyone but……

This is a choice; humanity is packed with potential, we are gloriously contradictory, varied, creative living beings, with a real role to play in all our wellbeing, whatever the scale. Neither overwhelmed or in denial, them and us and rigidly binary. Yes, it is more scary, but feelings of nervousness are like feelings of anticipation.

If you never experience turbulence, how do you know you are flying?

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Thinking for Yourself is your light in the hall – welcoming you back to yourself no matter what the weather is like, inside and out.

It is your home where you can surprise yourself with what is possible, not just navel-gazing, but being all that you can, however that looks and feels for you. It is about belonging, whether you have a history of being “other” or just a curious open-minded soul.

We know life has so much to offer and the resources of our beautiful planet are not infinite.

You will be seen and heard, or if you prefer, consider the ideas from the essays, photographs and your fellow travellers, and reflect in your own time. New vistas and tangents might be sparked, or it might be more of a self- affirmation, and very likely both.

A place where there is respect, passion, joyfulness and importantly a commitment to do no harm to others here and in the world.

Your aspirations are whatever you want them to be, there is nothing too small or too big. Being yourself in the world takes courage, and this is your oasis where you can be fed, rested and appreciated.

Thinking for Yourself is a flash nonfiction/fiction written & visual essay hub for open minds and hearts.

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Warning: I have found poetry, poetry has NOT found me.

I am ketchup hear me roar

I am ketchup hear me roar

Buy me in your convenience store

I was born ready - mean and green

Out of sight unknown, unseen

Reaching for the scarlet bright

My culinary destiny in sight

Pulversied, squished and strained

Hell knows nowt of a tomato’s pain

Sacrificed to end up on your platter

Destined to make you much fatter

As an adjunct to fish and chips

With mushy peas, with no pips

I am ketchup

Hear me roar

Boom Boom! – thank you for being a lovely audience

Thinking for Yourself is a flash nonfiction/fiction written and visual essay hub for open minds and hearts.

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“The morning time is the best time. My pleasant disposition prefers the world with nobody in it.”

Georgia O’ Keeffe

A peculiar relief befell during lockdown that of not being exposed to society. Scouting the streets masked, it was relief to be disjointed, othered and coupled with sense of liberation.

I note my photographs are devoid of humanity and I am drawn instinctively to capture shadows, reflections, hidden places, bins, debris, decompsoing creatures, behind the facade, what lies beneath, portals, signs, architectural clean lines, odd angles.

I am fascinated by the traces we leave; these exhortations, meassges, coded, indirect and multiple even in this small cathedral city where I reside. Having conversations with disembodied voices, covert and indirect.

The image I selected disturbs me deeply, the fact of the image of a face has been ripped or worn. I am ambivalent about being seen, and publishing here is an act of both ambivalence and faith, i am thrilled and equally terrified.

Unknown, uncertain yet compeIling.

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