Framing pictures

Just completed framing a fabulous piece of work by the Irish artist Lola Normal who is currently in Brighton

The piece is in watercolour and has been framed with moulding from Arqadia Larson-Juhl moulding. The artwork is backed with mountboard and faced with clear picture glass 2mm. In this case the strong colours work well with the decorative silver frame.

Lola is on her way back to Cork in Eire to start up an exciting business and plans to open a hairdressers that couples as gallery. She is determined to take the great spirit of Brighton with her and introduce art to everyone not just a select few.


Thanks Lola it is a pleasure to work with you and good luck in your new venture

Framing in Brighton at fair prices from PTL framing


Watercolour from a few weeks ago ,......
Watercolour from a few weeks ago ,……



It was all too real to be a dream, but then again the brain is a powerful tool. It is said that generally human beings only use a fraction of its potential. Jess was certain sure that his must be on full bore, burning rubber, firing on all cylinders, at the least pretty lively to be able to present the situations he was witnessing. Of course a lot of the images he was familiar with or could conjure I expect, and also he knew that if he woke up and waited the absurdity of the whole story could soon become apparent. He listened as the two men outside his bedroom door were still talking about him.

He’s alive Gerald and that is the most important factor at the moment. He needs rest at least for a short while. If he does come back, our Jess that is, we just can’t say what he has witnessed, what trauma. I want to be there for him. Two weeks ago he was gone.” Gary was audibly emotional and Jess felt the power of what he had just said.

However, all joking apart, what the hell did they mean. Suddenly another nurse appeared and started to do some checks on Jess; he knew these ones, quite standard stuff, check pulse, ooh maybe he’s got two hearts like the Doctor or his ears are now growing pointy like Mr Spock or they are waiting for a full moon to catch him as he grows all hairy and starts howling. When she finished and went through one of the other doors Jess sat up and caught himself in a mirror; yes mmm young painted on tan dark hair; the shock was a reason to break the self imposed curfew. He let out an involuntary gasp and then realised that his voice had not broken yet. The door burst open and there was Gary; Jess quickly shrunk into the bed. He was now officially freaked out.

Jess, hang in their kid. Look do you remember me yet. You should do I’ve looked after you since Mum and Dad died five years ago. I’m your big brother Gary.” Gary stared into Jess’s somewhat hesitant eyes.

This is a dream isn’t it?” Jess finally said in a falling falsetto and definitely with an American lilt. “ Not exactly, but it’s complicated. Like I said its important not to rush kid, it is serious and real tricky.” Gary looked like he didn’t really want to say anymore. Jess had worked out that he genuinely cared for him. He really found it strange that a dream could be intense like this. Not exactly Gary had said, implying that it is a sort of dream.

Then wallop; it felt like he was pulled really fast, no form, jelly-like, amorphous, no breathing, just am, just being, just many but few, terrible and amazing then bang, back on the train clickety-clack clickety-clack. Jess sobbed real hard; he was on his own in the same place he had been, grey day looking out the window. He remembered his brother, mum and dad but who was he now, was this a dream. His life had gone from boring to bizarre, the train rocked heavily on the tracks and a huge clap of thunder quickly followed a blinding flash. Jess staggered to the nearby toilet and was violently sick, the train rocked the thunder clapped the lightning flashed. When his stomach calmed down and after minutes of contemplating the metal tube of a toilet, wondering how and where his innards and been transported; Jess returned to his seat. His phone rang at first he didn’t want to answer it.

Jess, Jess is that you???”

To be continued

October 23rd

Copyright Patrick Turner-Lee 2014


Back to watercolour I just needed to paint this its on A2 size
Back to watercolour I just needed to paint this its on A2 size



Jess opened his eyes to see plantain trees lining a wide road. He was kind of gob smacked as he looked up and saw the sun streaming through iridescent sumptuous green leaves. The branches of the trees created a cool tunnel, passing through the scorching and rich residential landscape. The car they were driving in was vast and smooth, a far cry from the clickety clack that was his reality seemingly seconds earlier. As he peered out of the car window he saw fantastic houses; he guessed this was America, nowhere else could support such extravagant opulence. There were gargantuan four wheel drive cars in every driveway; like tanks that he imagined drank the black gold within seconds of being switched on.

The car majestically glided in to one of these driveways that seemed like an airport runway. The house he could see was Spanish style, with an immaculate tended lawn with tell-tale stripes of exact proportions. At strategic points the landscape was tastefully adorned with large pots with exotic yet tasteful trees and plants. Smack bang in the middle, at the back of the lawn, near a substantial wall was a hammock swing summer chair, facing an outbuilding that had a basketball hoop with an area below covered in marked out rubber matting.

He must have looked like he felt because the man said, “Don’t worry the doctor told me your memory would take a while to recover. You’ve been through a lot, in fact we don’t really know what yet until we have a look at the data.”

Jess again was relatively calm considering. He sort of felt like he was meant to be there. There was a nurse waiting with a small wheelchair when they reached the doorway. To say doorway, it was as big as the bedsit that was still fresh in his mind. He allowed himself to be manoeuvred into the chair and pushed through into the entrance. The first thing Jess saw was a large fancy cage. Inside was a very beautiful green and yellow parrot who chirped in an unerringly human sounding voice, “Jess is a good boy”. He suddenly had flashback to the train and the dull grey tracks; then straight back to sun streaming through the sparkling bird cage.

They went through to a huge room, with a long oak table and at the end sat a man dressed in a military uniform with a hat resting on the table in front of him. The man stood up, walked towards Jess and took the wheelchair from the nurse. He purposefully moved them both toward the French window and then into the garden towards a bench. The man sat down and faced Jess.

OK I guess we need to explain what is going on Jess”. Jess nodded still unable to speak.

OCT 20th

Copyright Patrick Turner-Lee 2014