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jamesmackeownart

La vague

I dont know how often I have stood and watched the sea, its gentle sighing with each falling wave, the breathing in, pulling the sand and shingles back, then tumbling in a fold, rhythmic, the sunlight glancing through the crested green.

It is my childhood I see, the playing amongst the rippling water that swirls and tugs at ones legs, buckets and spades at hand.

And those colours! The blues, greens and purples, dancing on the surfac

e, the childrens reflections on the wet sand, zigzaging.

And then on my easel, the canvas stands tall, and I try to capture those moments, that feeling of eternal calm that the sea holds.


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