A number of people have asked me about the banner of the watercolour sky on this and other pages. Did I just cut a swathe with a big brush to make a nice splashy banner? Well, no. The watercolour sky is a detail from 'Storm Light on The Wash'. Some years ago a painting friend said, 'You're always talking about The Wash, you talk about it more than any other place.' This was true, although half the time I talked about it I was actually thinking aloud about the laundry, but my friend had evidently not picked up on this. 'I'd like to come and paint some time.' I said, 'Fine, how about tomorrow?' 'You're joking - it's January - I'll freeze.' I phoned him again in February, March, April, May, June. The answer in each case was too icy, too windy, too wet, too cold, too hot. Finally in July, the weather was clement enough for him to risk going out with his paints. We drove down an old farm track, parked the car, and followed the footpath about half a mile, across a field and alongside a shallow lagoon. Progress was slow, because my friend had brought enough gear to vie with King John's famous baggage. He had come equipped with both oils and watercolours, a sheaf of papers and a carrier of painting boards, plus an easel on a trolley that threatened to overturn on every rut. Every few minutes we had to stop so he could have a breather. 'They say on a clear day you can see Boston Stump,' I said, to spur him along. 'How much further?' 'Just a few hundred yards.' The response was a barely muffled groan. The path led to a muddy causeway, which cut a slippery way across the lagoon, and having heaved his gear through the morass, we stopped so he could have another gasp, before making the final clamber up and onto the sea bank. And there, at last, stretching away to an almost endless distance, was the vast, haunting wilderness of The Wash. We stood in silence, surveying this great sweep of space where land and sea merge. The tide was out. The mud shone gold, pink and violet between phases of cloud and sunlight. In the middle distance was a sparkling slip of water, and on the horizon was the faint smudge of 'Boston Stump'. The whole space was a symphony of light and colour. I turned on my heel, taking it all in, the paintings already stacking up in my mind. My friend stood beside me, staring out, his mouth open. His heavy gear lay in two heaps at his feet. As we watched, a great flock of gulls rose up and wheeled round, their wings shining pale gold in the morning light. They came down again to settle on the mudflats, transforming the scene into a huge, shimmering presence of birds. 'Wow,' I thought, 'Wow....' I was still mentally 'wowing' and conjuring enough subjects to mount an exhibition, when my companion turned to me with an expression of dismay. What he said has stayed with me to this day: 'Well I can't see anything to paint, can you?' 'Storm Light on The Wash' was painted in watercolour on 140lb Arches paper.
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Judith Key
Judith Key is a Norfolk based artist, working in watercolour and pastel. She has exhibited with the Society of Graphic Fine Artists and New English Art Club at the Mall Galleries, London. Her paintings are in collections worldwide. Categories
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May 2018
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