A misty day in May.
The crenelated towers were challenging, angles and details impossible to capture correctly with my left hand.
I thought maybe the colours were too intense so I washed the whole painting with cold water and then brushed away at the paint with an old toothbrush. I’ve never thought to do that be for but I like the grainy look it brings, as though your eyes are fighting against mist and fading eyesight to focus clearly on what is in front of you.
Trying out the new pen in the top right corner, should have tried it elsewhere.
Whilst I was painting this watercolour, the light changed, the rocks became darker, almost purple black. For around ten minutes a bright yellow rescue helicopter hovered over Bristly Ridge, the peak at the left, then flew towards me, turned and set off towards Bangor, to the hospital I suppose.
The summit of Tryfan is famous for the twin monoliths of Adam and Eve, a pair of rocks some three metres high and separated by 1.2 metres. The rocks are visible from the Ogwen valley, from where they resemble two human figures. It’s traditional for climbers to jump or ‘step’ between the two rocks and thus gain the ‘freedom of Tryfan’
A poorly cared-for building in Clynnog Fawr in North Wales, so many textures and colours, faded red paint, purple slate, green algae, green moss, green plastic hose, rusting iron railings, I could go on! The painted out window, I waited hoping that someone would come and look out through the broken pane but no-one came. The white paint is peeling on the board door, the rough stonework is mossy but the roof tiles are perfectly cut and aligned.
For the first time I braved the challenge of walking down Snowdon, I had taken the train up but walked down via the Pyg track. It was a scorching day in late July, I was with four friends, all probably fitter than I. It started off well enough, the views were spectacular, I had plenty of water and the route was well known to our leader, I was enjoying it immensely. But after a long tiring struggle – downwards walking is so hard on the knees – I was enjoying it a lot less. Using the last of my energy I pushed on a bit faster, to end the seemingly interminable descent a little quicker. I lost sight of the others but sensibly stopped and waited. The sun was behind Snowdon and the light was falling across the ridge, I hoped I might just be able to take a good photograph as one or other of them appeared over the intermediate horizon.
I was pleased when the first one to appear was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, silhouetted against the light. Just seconds later the composition might have been spoiled by the appearance of two other walkers following behind, in fact the tops of their heads are just visible, catching the sunlight to the right.
The rest of the descent took another hour, nearly five in all but well worth it for the exhilaration, the views and that one photograph.