Days slip away with swimming in the sea, discovering a new giant pebble beach, hidden beyond a rough steep track that falls away perilously from the coastal road.
Days slip away with sleeping in the afternoon, after cooking from the full flavoured local produce. Or soaking up poetry in a good chair in the shade, after a third or fourth cooling off in the outdoor shower that offers its view of the blue sea below.
Days slip away with sleeping in late after staying up watching a movie in the heavily planted open-air garden cinema; the soundtrack augmented by the wind buffeting the trees above our heads and the waves against the rocks outside.
Days slip away with some loose thoughtless sketching using a simple soft 6B pencil, as if beginning all over again. Retracing the steps of the journey so far, redrawing the subjects covered long ago. Checking one’s position by retracing the route taken.
But as yet, there’s no painting. No pushing out into the new. In this unchanging place one must first replay the past, and become settled comfortably into the timeless present moment.
But I did pick up a brush, just to see how quickly the watercolour dries on these hot days, and mixed a neutral Grey from Cadmium Yellow and Winsor Violet; and finally, I started again.