My people want to tell you something about their lives and for one fleeting moment their feelings become explicit. They are the downtrodden, poor, hapless, luckless, disenfranchised and sometimes cruel residents of farms, towns and valleys that are blackened by smoke, sin, hypocrisy and despair.
I paint in the shadow of abandoned chimneys in a small town called Beddau on the outskirts of the Welsh valleys. Beddau translates as 'graves' which may or may not be significant...
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