Yesterday I was tidying up. As I lifted a pad of bristol, a half-sheet fell out, and this image was on it. Charcoal smears, with a faint but delineated pencil border (crop lines, obviously). I don’t recall what its original intent was— perhaps a layer to be added to some digitally-finished illustration.

It struck me at the moment, though, as misty reflections of a formal garden in water. I love coming suddenly across old work, or bits of work, and being delighted or surprised by it.


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