32°C:moderate SW winds
I’m getting to know the point when to stop the turps, now is the time to open the lid on the oil, now it needs a night to dry. Next dog the walks
The teapot maywell become a burgandy colour tomorrow, the tonal work is along the right lines, but the sky doesn’t work well with it. I’ve just realised how much of a hole that right hand is, that will have to change. The ear has the same problem.
It will be raining.
What an extraordinary night. It’s very warm, not a cloud to be seen. When you walk past a brick wall, the heat from it is quite startling. Best of all is the smells. Every ten yards or so is a different one- heavy, rich and sweet. The blackbirds don’t seem to be relenting ontheir songmaking since the sun went down.
I’m quite struck by it all.