The wind feels like it is giving the brush a life of its own as it howls around the house. Creeping through gaps, rattling roof tiles and charging my emotions. Solar charges the floorboards, cat tail curled, dogs are laughing. The white has already painted itself this morning, the inner image just has to reveal itself.
There is sea crashing in the rage of the wind. It has to be put into the paper.
The waves of emotion dance in the spray, and ink. The sea is always my favorite to paint.

It is tough making time to be creative…..there is always so much else to do, but house work gets undone, the painting s have a trace of a longer existence……. I am fighting myself to up load this one as it is a long way from perfect…but I tried to control the ink less…

Caswell Storms…. often the locals go to see the high tides as they crash over onto the roads, and buildings…I wonder how long it will be before we are forced to retreat, or build higher walls?