Drawn on my iPhone over pastels on paper
Once at Mystic, I walk through the shipyard. It smells of wood. Wood is everywhere. Ship masts, tree trunks, chopped timber. A pile of cut wood is hypnotizing: planes run every which way under jumping sun rays. It's organized chaos, this beautiful wood-pile.
Masts and Restoration Shipyard Barn.
Pastels on paper, iPhone
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