I'm feeling a little strange since New Year, and not just through over-indulgence.
On our drive up to the Lake District, the low sunshine lit the snowy hills and white fields of grubby sheep with a fabulous peach-coloured light, which I was itching to draw.
I had a sketchbook in my bag, but there's not much you can do at 40mph and, in any case, I only packed my trusty 3B. Which is why the pic is a Monet:
Then, during our coastal walk next day, I found the wind-bent shrubs along the edge of the sand-dunes similarly exciting. The crisp shadows at ground level and the smudge-edged snow clouds above all added to my twitchiness to do some work.
I would have loved to sit down with some colours and see what happened. But of course it was FREEZING, I was with friends and the most colourful thing I had with me was my pink nose. I didn't even get any decent photos - the one below is from the same time last year:
Now I'm home in Sheffield I still feel inspired, but not sure what to do about it. Working from photos or from memory has never really done it for me. I'm having fantasies of hiring a cottage in the dunes and rushing out with painting gear each morning, Van Gogh style... As if!