This scene made a very strong impression on me as I regarded the crescent moon hanging like a shining eyelash between the mountain buttresses one evening. It’s a little corner of wildness, this exposed section of the peninsula at the end of the mountain range, with incessant gale-force winds from the sea, slamming against the rock faces, and my back. The fynbos-covered slopes seem to dance in waves and ripples. Yet, juxtaposed above, the moon imparts an eternal calmness on the scene.
Using only my own hand-made pigments and hand-refined linseed oil in the style of the Old Masters, one can get a diverse range of textures and viscosities unachievable with commercial, homogenously ‘buttery’ oil paints which contain waxes and fillers.
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