and daily sketches

Soft Yellows

oil on panel

30 x 40 cm

MORNINGS come slowly, sneaking through a crack in the curtain. They start with a grey frost, wet glass and low mist, easing off the cool of the night.

On a clear day in November, when I make my coffee in the kitchen, I watch the sun rise over the wood, framed by the window, and it transforms all from grey to pink and yellow. Almost too blinding to confront head on and strong enough to bring too much truth to our dusty worktops.

My palette is butter, rust again and soft, blushing pink. This time last year I was focused so much of the idea of dusk that I went dark, deep into shadows and tree shapes and moon reflection. This time it’s an exploration of winter daylight, whatever sliver of it is given. Even on grey, damp days these colours are carrying me through.

I’ll start my daily winter paintings soon, sketching in oil or whatever I have to hand. Maybe it’ll be these soft, strong, sometimes harsh yellows that will radiate.