The Lincolnshire Wolds are a short drive north of my home. We set out on a snowy February Saturday afternoon to find the farm where my partners family lived in the 19th and early 20th century. We walked around the fields and high in the trees, rooks called out into the cold brittle air. By the time we reached the little church perched up a steep bank, the heavy sky was clearing and the sun glowed before it disappeared behind the bare trees. It was one of those days that stays in the imagination for a long time. The haunting, freezing stillness of that afternoon had to be a painted.
This painting is framed in a plain lightweight white slip. I have made the frame myself in my studio using a hand mitre saw and it is not a perfect professional job. The painting is available unframed upon request.
oil paint
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£350
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The Lincolnshire Wolds are a short drive north of my home. We set out on a snowy February Saturday afternoon to find the farm where my partners family lived in the 19th and early 20th century. We walked around the fields and high in the trees, rooks called out into the cold brittle air. By the time we reached the little church perched up a steep bank, the heavy sky was clearing and the sun glowed before it disappeared behind the bare trees. It was one of those days that stays in the imagination for a long time. The haunting, freezing stillness of that afternoon had to be a painted.
This painting is framed in a plain lightweight white slip. I have made the frame myself in my studio using a hand mitre saw and it is not a perfect professional job. The painting is available unframed upon request.
oil paint
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