Another version of the breakwater, this time in overcast morning light. This is a tricky subject, because the tide is alway either coming in or going out, at a rate right on the edge of perceptibility, like the minute hand of a clock. Not only do parts of the structure disappear as the tide comes in, but the water's edge, which ordinarily would be a useful reference point, is always changing as well. The only constant is the horizon.
There was a many-layered cloudy sky behind the iconic Pilgrim Monument tower. Don't know if I'll work on this more - it might be better to leave it as is and possibly use it as the basis for a larger, more planned out painting.
This breakwater of dark, seaweed encrusted boulders reaching into the sea from the beach was catching the late rays of the setting sun. The rocks were the most brilliant thing in the scene despite being also the darkest.
4" x 6" ink on bristol in sketchbook.
My town recently acquired a disused golf course and has been letting it return to a quasi-natural state for recreational uses by the public. It's very beautiful and bucolic, but has an undertone of eldritch, a hint of JG Ballard, especially the overgrown sand traps.
Ink and white gouache on toned paper.
I made a serviceable little wet panel carrier for the 6" x 8"s that I use with the small cigar box pochade out of scraps of birch plywood. It holds up to 8 panels back to back in four slots, which I hogged out with the table saw and cleaned up with the Dremel tool. The top is held on with Velcro.
I didn't know what this thing was, just that it took the late afternoon light nicely standing by the side of the road. After some Google sleuthing, I think I can identify it as a side dumping silage wagon, or dump wagon. The diagonal tube across the front is a hydraulic piston that lifts the hopper up and pivots it over the top of the horizontal frame to dump the contents.
