In these dismal and often depressing times of dark nights, cold weather and Covid a thought of warm summer beaches wouldn’t go amiss in anyone’s dreams. This is an old acrylic from the past of my twins Archie & Amelia building sandcastles on Woolacombe Beach on a hot summer’s day. A treasured composition in my personal collection.
A large digital painting I’ve been dabbling with on and off for a few years now! Using the app Procreate on my iPad image size 3,915 x 1,690 dpi. This image was captured on a GoPro camera between sets whilst surfing off Combesgate Beach in North Devon. In the distance you can see the back of the break with a few surfers making the most of a kind summer swell.
Below are the three layers I’ve used to create this large image. Once connected the final image is complete.
Above the completed image on the left and on the right just playing with photoshop to exchange the painted sky with a photographic one! Time to now move on as this composition is finally over and dusted. Al
Barricane is a picturesque cove tucked in between the rocks, famous for cowries and other exotic shells sought out by children and adults alike. For many years this secluded beach was a locals secret hidaway but recently the word has got out. In the summer there is a food hut that sells curries and tea in china mugs. Sadly a few visitors and locals alike bestow the beach in rubbish, bottles and discarded BBQs. It was our Secret Heaven!
Deep green and distant islands
I have been off Ban Pae Pier.
Where the salt white sands are bleached,
And the water’s crystal clear.
Sweeping shadows of the palm trees,
Open fingers brush the shore.
Band of grey approaching thunder,
Monsoon rain a little more.
Without care for tortured world
We bronzed our thoughts away.
Cosmopolitan games of volleyball,
Oriental Eden made for play.
Beachside huts now mute and toppled,
No more bucks from Uncle Sam.
My friends have now gone elsewhere,
Have they gone to Vietnam?
Korean families with their beach craft,
Who’ve discovered Diamond Sands.
While away their humid moments,
Where a noisy jet ski lands.
My uncovered secret heaven
Was impossible to hide.
Speeding years and aging faces,
From those memories we cried.
Why couldn’t it last forever?
Tearful dreams of carefree days.
Fleeting moments of impermanence,
They’re our lives the Buddha says.
So now it’s time to move along,
Relieved so one pretends.
Now I’ll sit alone and drink awhile,
To the ghosts of dancing friends.