Storms and Old Masters

Weather is boring but a force ten wind, that's interesting!

And gale force winds up to force ten is what we had all (last) night long. The sea this morning has gone from blue/gray to titanium white, the bushes in our garden are thrashing about like whirling dervishes, sounds like a tube train emerging from a tunnel, rain reduced visibility meaning I can barely see Loch Ewe. Few birds fly today, like British Airways tomorrow.

A good day to be inside strong stone walls that have felt all this before so many times over so many years (since about 1900 in fact). A good day to get on with my latest painting, about which I will post more sometime. But only if I like the finished thing!

Talking of paintings, yesterday I collected from Lynn, our local framer, a newly framed oil painting. This was my own very first arwork, done when I was twenty six; a minitiarised copy of an old master. I think, memory having failed me, one by Caravaggio called 'The Fall of Rome'. Since 1960 it's been knocking around in my father's flat and umpteen of our attics, in spite of which it remains in pristine condition.

I painted it, as I say, in oils and on Daler Board rather than the canvas which I could not have afforded. But I do recall so vividly those long nights when I worked on it whilst all the household slept. Subsequently I copied everything that appealed to me. Famous paintings by David, by Picasso, by literally all the Impressionists, Augustus John etcetera. This was my only art education. I am very grateful to my masters.

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