Tuesday, March 31, 2015

The Wind

The wind here is non stop, it has a way of getting into your skull and behind your eyes. The house is rattling and the trees are bent double. It's as if the ocean waves are continuously crashing down on my head.

Collage from my sketchbook, * Painting; 'Inmates at the Salpetriere asylum in Paris in 1795,' by Tony Robert-Fleury

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