Part of the collection: ‘Where the wind blows’.
I love the local mountains in the winter: the amount of colour they have, despite all the plant life being at its lowest ebb, is always surprising. The hillsides are sculpted and shaped by the winds sweeping from the west, emphasising the shapes and colours of the rocks and soil. The heather always has a slight purplish hue, even when it’s not flowering, and the bracken stems are the most vibrant burnt sienna colour. These rustle in the winds: there is always a whispering, soughing sound, as the dry stems rustle. And then, you turn the corner into a hidden valley, the whispers increase, and you come across a stream tumbling over the rocks- adding to the magic.
I’ve used oil and acrylics in this piece, scratching in to the layers to try to evoke the feeling of the sounds of the wind, and the movement of the vegetation.