This is a a new (first draft) poem:
For forty years the sea defences have protected
the front. At Borth and Ynyslas.
The old familiar way was shoring up
with strong timber upright breastworks
and jutting joists and great beamed groynes.
Bleached now by summer’s gold.
Old oak silvered and smoothed to salty sinews
Gravel and grit erosion pebble dashing
the frontages. Wrack draped and clasped
in rust. Scarred and scarified
by four decades force. Bearing up
against lifelong accretion. Pileup
of crashing drift and tide.
Perpendicular props. Familial forces
trying vainly to combine their strength
against dying under life’s attack.
Cold stone proposed along this ancient front
now sinking against an unquiet sea.
Forces of opposition with steely knives
and cranes and engineering.
Of a concrete will. Defying the tide like Canute.
Tempting Fate. Or perhaps too late
Painting what you see. Seeing what you’ve painted. Photographing what you’ve painted of what you’ve seen. Editing the photo. Posting the photo online. Painting the edited photo of what you’ve painted of what you’ve seen. Posting that
Which bit is the artwork?
2 works on paper
3 small works on canvas
adding contrasting layers
black cow on canvas 80cm sq
black cow 6it *sigh*)cm sq (undercoating was similar, not shown)
2 finished pieces, black cow 1& 2
undercoating 3 canvases 80cm sq (& 1 canvas 60cm sq, not shown) nb. this pic should NOT be at the bottom, but I cant move it *sigh*
Why on earth would I attempt to paint landscapes when you can get photos like these?
Admittedly the saturation is high and the pixels are visible
This sort of thing is a rich source for abstraction, combined with the sharp hail on my nose and my wet feet from the incoming tide
And Junos disappointment at the orange fishing float not being a ball (too hard too heavy) is just icing on the cake
Its February tomorrow, Spring will soon be here
Keep warm, be safe 🙂