A sketch of a memory: a hazy Dorset summer's day - Gerrard's hill on the horizon - a shepherd and his dog at work - a father and son - a sudden clatter of pigeons.
I started something in the same vein a few months ago and abandoned it. Now the idea is overlaid with memories of everything that's passed since - and thoughts of what's to come.
This is very much work in progress: the swell of the hills, fields like chapters or episodes and the adjacent woods full of softnesses and darknesses. The act of painting is like an open gate: it changes everything - connections start to suggest themselves.
And then there's Ravilious, of course.