The heavens open. Leaves tremble all around me with the splashing of raindrops. A gunmetal, pewter sky keeps the tin lid on things as I wait for a break in the weather. I know, I watched the forecast but the optimist in me says it will be fine…….
The rain comes down harder, paint sliding off the paper, charcoal dissolving on touch. An image of tear stained mascara running down a face. By the end the paper is more like a wrung out handkerchief as I finally decide it is time to leave, but the feeling of this place today is caught, fleetingly, in black and white.
142 x 60 cm
dominique cameron RSW 
Aye I hold my bated breath in excitement and anticipation wondering what your gifted etchings and words will describe and picture next š š I am going to have to get a copy of that book you have written Dominique or will write – as it would make great reading for Winter nights āŗ
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I think you are more poet than painter today…
“Beech trees with their fiery copper boughs stretch to their very tips like dancers in sequins, casting shimmering flames through the air.”
That paints a tremendous image in my mind D. I think you had success today, by a different fashion.
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