Spent three late afternoons and evenings sploshing paint in the shadow of the old tree up at Sprocket Hill. Couldn't get it right. The light kept changing as the sun descended. Browns turned to pinky orange and rusty reds, then back to browny grey, all in a matter of minutes. Shadows grew, light areas disappeared. With every change came a rub out with a turpsy rag. Then the sun went down and arty stuff was thrown in the dogwagon and driven back home in a frustrated rage. Looks like the old magic's been and gone. Maybe it'll return tomorrow evening. Or maybe not. Providing the sunny weather holds.
Today, the fourth day, the sun has gone. So the colours won't be there. And neither will I. Instead, I'll wait for the next sunny soirée before attacking the painting again and hopefully applying the finishing touches. Or maybe I'll just leave it unfinished. And start another one. Or maybe not.
Took a few photos of the canvassy mess. Interestingly, the snaps look completely different to the painting. The colours are all wrong. Anyways..., I'll load up one of the photos cos it's better than nothing. Or maybe it ain't!