HeyJared(Re)Trace
Tracing the imprints in landscape, place, image, memory. Turning them over and watching where they settle.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 6
- Latest publication
- Sep 30, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 13, 2026
Latest issues
Why is she always in red? (opens the original)
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I’ve been wanting to write about this for ages, but the PhD had my focus. As I’m on a timeout from the PhD I have space to pick up the threads of different ideas and avenues. Although they’re all connected, since the main critical thread in following JMW Turner is emerging as Where Are the Women?A slow holiday in TuscanyA year ago, Pete and I were on a walking holiday in Tuscany. I have never previously taken much interest in religious art (so overwhelming) but this time it was different. I have
“My business is to paint what I see, not what I know is there,” by JMW Turner (apparently) (opens the original)
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It has taken me a while to work out what I wanted to say in the writing of this. What has bothered me so much about it? It’s a simple phrase and feels like something that Turner would say. Only, I don’t think he did. Did you ever play Chinese whispers around a dinner table? When someone would decide on a phrase or a sentence, and it would be whispered to the next person… and the next and so on until it came back to the person who started it all. Most times it came back with a trace of the origin
‘Painting and poetry flowing from the same fount’ (opens the original)
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I shared a cringe poem in my last Substack article about Marilyn Monroe. It was one I’d written when I was on a creative writing course at Morley College, London and was an early attempt at poetry. I can see the bumps in it, but I can also see the endeavour and the freedom of my expression. I share this because when it comes to Turner’s poetry, this is the attitude I want to carry with the responsibility of judgement.Aside: My own relationship with poetry has been stormy. After the creative writ
Something's Got to Give (opens the original)
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My first career was as a Chartered Accountant and in the summer of 1990, in the slow days after the ‘busy season’ (most client year ends were December, and we weren’t allowed time off from January to April) and after exams there was nothing to do. Remember 1990? Our working papers were hand-written and we would lug the audit box (a tin trunk, laden with files) from client to client. Windows training happened a couple of years later. Letters were typed on a typewriter. There was no internet. No m
Death on a Pale Horse, c1825-1830 by JMW Turner (opens the original)
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When Old Dad (Turner’s father) died, Turner bore his death heavily. He didn’t exhibit anything at the Royal Academy that summer.I feel something like his pain. There is something of the ‘what’s the point’ for me, weighed down by grief. I wasn’t going to write anything today, but this painting came to mind. A bit like my friend Yasmin Chopin did recently, this is me in free-flow. It won’t be polished or edited, so let’s see
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