Sometimes the sky takes on the colour of concrete and becomes colder, heavier. I sense on the tip of my tongue that slight taste of steel that warns me not to swallow. Beneath my feet, what could have been the gentle coolness of grass is now only a chilling dampness creeping up my body. The wind rises and slaps my face like a challenge in a duel. The world provokes me. An army of colossal Goliaths against barefoot Samson. But not today.
Mixed techniques on canvas