The lake was busy with light, the grasses busy with wind, but the boat sat quiet against the shore. There is a gift in this tension: to be held still while everything moves, to be carried without effort, to find rest in the very heart of motion.
(2B Pencil on 135mm x 140mm paper) "They're not flag-waving wannabes, or finger-pointing-blamemongers. They're true British Heroes! They were born with spines of steel, have spunk by the bucketload, and their upper-lips aren't just stiff, they're rock-solid! They're the type who'll kick those mad-dogs aside and proudly march, bare-arsed, into the midday sun!"
I passed this old workshop numerous times going from Carmarthen to Drefach-Felindre. Eventually I parked up and took a photo so I could sketch it. I love old buildings like this which seem to be everywhere here in Wales.
