Rusty old men

After all these little paintings on ply, and then being taken away from painting for a while it was good to do a good big painting on canvas.  Until the wind blew.  God what a pain, its like writing on a piece of paper when someone keeps pulling it away from under you.  every 5 minutes the easel fell over.  I need some guy ropes.  The second, third and fourth days weren’t so bad.  Just that clouds don’t sit still, but they never do, and the wind keeps changing direction.  If you think mountains are nice and still things to paint you are very wrong, they are like children, they keep changing their expressions and fidgeting around, moving all the time and changing shape, sometimes even disappearing.

This is Coniston by the way.

Again an awful photograph, the medium has caught the light in some places and not in others, how strange.  Most of the colours haven’t come through on the photograph at all.  And the ones that have are really dull.  you just can’t trust the camera especially if it’s on a gadgety phone.


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