One morning everything seemed red or tinged with red. And heeding that ancient nautical warning, ‘Red sky at morn, sailors be warned,’ spent the morning sketching.
As I type this the red has gone, it’s -14C outside the studio and very, very white.

One morning everything seemed red or tinged with red. And heeding that ancient nautical warning, ‘Red sky at morn, sailors be warned,’ spent the morning sketching.
As I type this the red has gone, it’s -14C outside the studio and very, very white.
