The Old Forge, Michael’s studio with its light-drenched first floor, continued to work its magic – on Michael too as he worked on about six large, dense canvases at one end of it while I paddled around in the shallow waters of exercises at the other.
We drove out to South Repps in search of material and, at the beginning of a 5km circular walk, crossed the Common on a board-walk floating over a marsh with reed beds. I was taken by the way in which perfectly normal sized houses at the edge of the Common showed only the reds of their roofs above the reeds. I sketched them figuratively from the board-walk in the middle of the reeds and, most unusually for me, converted sketch into painting on my return. The image has become more impressionistic in translation, but I sense this is not a bad painting:
I then applied my growing confidence with a pencil to some detail down Michael’s garden and produced my best sketch of the week (subsequently spoilt by colouring in the sunflower); but perversely this did not lead to a painting based on it:
Instead I did an ink and charcoal study of two glasses on the window ledge in the studio:
of which a detail makes a better picture:
to be continued