Giant cushions of grey granite rise and fall to the sea. Their soft curves ran out of steam long ago. What was once in is out, there’s no turning back. And everything must be weathered come storms and flood and drought. But the whale rock is going nowhere fast. Peculiar how the surface feels warm to the touch on this cool October morning. I leave my palm on the the raspy skin expectant of an exhalation.
Beautiful economic drawing
I love the words you use to accompany your drawings – so evocative.
Thanks so much Lizzie, I hope I do manage to speak about the landscape in a way that can’t be seen throught the drawings, another perspective 🙂 And thanks for letting me know x