I produced this line wash a few days ago, (long after I took the picture), under the light of my lamp after the family had retired to bed. I wanted to peer over my shoulder, to look back at winter and prepare myself for what’s to come. The last of the courgettes have already been eaten. For me, that’s a sure sign the best days of summer have past, ticking away like the hours on a clock. I hate the way summer’s so easily swallowed by autumn. August is filled with the sound of children, but it’s like the sand of an egg timer, slow but certain.
September is drawing, winter took so long to leave us this year I feel robbed of the early days of spring that lessened the days of summer. This painting is therapy. I want to wilt with the flowers and emerge again in the spring. To know only warm days and bright light. Animals, which hibernate, know what they do. I too want to hide away from what’s to come.