It was always going to happen. The long summers painting in the South of France have come to an end. Four or five months away from Cardiff every year became a tradition that carried on for 16 years. But things change.
Deciding on the spur of the moment to leave for France, loading up my car with paints and canvases, spending the night with my family in London before heading for the coast and the ferry was exciting and intoxicating. The lure of the open road, my choice of route, my choice of where to spend the night and finally the joy of driving along the road leading to the village where I had a home. Always when I stepped into the house it was if I had never been away. I had simply been shopping in Cahors.The next morning I would start work early always bemoaning the fact that I could get nothing right. My head was full of images of South Wales yet here I was miles away in the hot southern climate with bright blue skies and constant sunshine. It's not surprising that there was some conflict of images.
Now I'm excited by more change, maybe new adventures in the future. I am ready to leave France behind confident that my paintings will act as a reminder that I was once there.