Buttercup Field
One of a series of drawings before I dip into painting again. I find that doing the drawing sorts of prints the image into the grey matter, parking itself next to thoughts of ‘Where did I put those socks?’. I wonder if Cezanne had similar thoughts; he was reputed to have red socks, I think. Most of the drawings are black and white, but when doing this one, a yellow pastel was hanging around doing nothing. Continue reading Buttercup Field
