This week and its extremes of conditions down on the beach has reminded me of a little drawing I made in 1996, the year after I graduated. It was titled ‘Two Days in August’ and was a response to two consecutive days that were complete opposites - one being complete calm and tranquil, and the next angry and tumultuous.
Acrylic on board
63cm x 63cm
The larks are still singing their elaborate and mesmerising melody in field and dune. They are tricky to capture with the camera, soaring almost out of sight, leaving a tell-tale trail of notes that almost betray their position.
This painting is now available at www.serenahallgallery.com in Southwold.
Acrylic on board
As today was the first time this year I heard the unique and always welcome high-pitched sound of swifts swooping overhead, I thought I would post a picture of a very recent painting. More recent work can be seen in a new exhibition at the Serena Hall Gallery in Southwold: www.serenahallgallery.co.uk
1 May 2014
A week of gunmetal dawns and silky seas. The sea temperature is rising now and no longer ‘burns’ the skin, and the air has a softer note along the Saxon Shore.
Dawn, North Sea c.1995
I’ve been rummaging through some old photographs lately and came across a couple of wallets with ‘On the Boat’ written on the front. Well that was the next couple of hours taken care of. Sometimes it’s necessary to peer into the past to get a bearing on the future.
A week that has seen the apparent beginning of Spring, and some varied conditions down at the beach and in the sea. On the the way down to the sea, across field and marsh, that exquisite and uplifting little creature, the skylark, sings its dawn proclamation. Rodney Pybus describes perfectly this scene in his poem ‘Silly Season’: “a lark, unreeling, untangling the threads of his song, ancient in its freshness, high climbing almost out of sight, climbing till he may be something on the eye, but the notes still falling brightness from just imaginable tiers of heaven no less divine because merely sky, and seely Suffolk swings giddy on its season.”
28 February 2014
The steady easterly breeze this morning blew the sound of the sea over the dunes enabling it to be heard before it could be seen; puffing and shunting like a purposeful old steam locomotive. Accompanying this arresting clatter was the heady aroma of salt and invisible shipping.