I was in Eastbourne last weekend for the Ink Paper + Print Fair at the Towner Gallery. It was so funny, I have an almost non-existent visual memory, but as soon as I sat on the pebbles of Eastbourne, it was like saying hello to old friends. Many moon ago I did my degree at Brighton and spent an inordinate amount of time sitting on the beach sorting through the pebbles. And here they were again in all their mixed colours and flinty wonder, so different from the smooth banded grey rocks I have got used to in the West.

Before driving back to Bristol on the Monday morning, I treated myself to a walk west along the beach as far as the cliffs at Holywell. The colours changed as I walked, the oranges disapearing, being replaced by greys, which in their turn were out numbered by white. The pebbles underfoot eventually becoming dinosaur eggs of rounded chalk which hardly made a sound as you walked over them.  The white cliffs were multi-tonal, beautiful to look at.