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Well, I made a vow with myself that I’d do 4 sea-sidey paintings. I’m up to 3 so far, but the 4th has taken a lot of thought. It’s always the last one that’s most difficult.

I love water and have always hankered after living near a river, or even better, the sea. I like swimming, I love rock pooling; after my trip to Cornwall I now like snorkeling and I love boat trips.

Now here’s the Cornwall holiday arty inspirational rub… I wanted to go on a plain boat trip, but husband wanted to do some sea fishing, so a compromise was made and we both went on a sea fishing boat trip. What’s the rub? Well I’m a veggie. I think you can see the forced smile, hardly hiding my trepidation at the thought of fishing in this photo:

sea fishing 2

The narrowed eyes say it all don’t they? Husband was seriously contemplating being sea-sick and I was thinking ‘Don’t you dare put me through this and then spend the hour and a half vomiting’.

It got worse. I was handed a fishing rod and thought “Oh I’ll show willing but just be crap at this on purpose so I don’t catch anything”. I caught several suicidal mackerel and got glared at by my husband, who’d wanted to show off his fishing skills but at that point had caught bugger all.

It got even worse. I asked the fisherman’s assistant to take them off my hook gently and pop the little fellas back in the sea. I got funny looks from the others, especially when I sat down and said I just wanted to watch the sea.

It got even more worse. I’m not a ‘do as I do’ veggie at all, but I do believe if you are going to kill, have the decency to eat it. So I had a bit of a moral high horse thing with the people who carried on fishing when they said they wouldn’t eat what they’d caught. I expected the fishing boat owner to give me a telling off, but he sided with me and told people to put back the surplus in the spirit of sustainability. He probably wanted to nudge me over the side, but thought it best to keep the peace.

It got worse still. The little space at the back of me was where the fisherman’s assistant gutted all the fish. Oh dear, it wasn’t pleasant and everyone else cleared off up the top end of the boat grimacing and I had to sit there next to all the blood and guts… and there was plenty of it. My gallant husband made no offer to swap places, instead he turned a funny shade of green and gave his few fish to the boat owner. The seagulls had a feast with it all when it was thrown overboard.

Nevertheless, the lure of the sea was not a disappointment and it blew away some cobwebs and made me feel exhilarated. And I did enjoy it apart from the queasy bits. And my husband was impressed with the fact that I gave it a try to keep him happy.

So, I really ought to put those memories into paint… well the good bits anyway.

So a nice Cornish name is ‘Denzel’. I love that name, it has so much character. And ‘Hollow’ is a Cornish surname. So Denzel Hollow is my pretend fishing boat owner. He does mackerel fishing trips. And here’s my rough sketch of what I want to convey in the painting:

002

Denzel Hollow’s birthplace

It’s a bit of a weird perspective: pebbles, mackerel, sea, boat and a fishing trip advert. It’ll either work or it won’t. Hopefully I’ll make a proper start tomorrow and will finish it over the weekend.

If it doesn’t work, plan b is an old fisherman with a beard, selling fishy shaped Quorn (yes that was a joke).

I’ll post some progress pics.

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