Inspired by the changing light and colours of the Irish landscape. The cloud settled on the hill, cloaking the fields. in soft purple rain. Some days the damp fog hugs the hills and never clears. We seem to live in a permanent cloud. The light glows blue, grey and green. But there is magic in this fertile moisture. In the morning, the sun glints against gems of new petals, unfurled overnight, fat with pearls of dew, nestled against shards of grass.
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rain on the hill
Acrylic, ink, conte crayon on raw canvas, the painting extends over the edges. Hand-stretched on museum-grade aluminium stretchers. Signed on reverse, unframed and ready to hang.