There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile;
He bought a crooked cat which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all lived together in a little crooked house.
I thought it was just a silly poem, there could be no crooked men and crooked houses, but many many years later I found myself living in England and all of a sudden I was surrounded by Crooked Houses, we won't expand about the 'crooked men'. I visited a quite a few of these houses and without doubt took a photo of each of them as I found it fascinating that they could still be standing being so crooked and inhabited I found just close to a miracle.
When I started painting again after a long time not doing so, I revisited my photos and painted a few:
The Crooked House of Windsor and in Lavenham.
I gave the Crooked House in Lavenham to my sister who lives in South Africa and recently she visited me and I took a photo of her in front of this building. What a joy it was to me to bring these two worlds together?