Grey sands, leading to a grey sea, under a grey sky. Skegness in the 1980s. It was a bit of a grey decade for me – the decade I lost my hearing.
Nearly forty summers ago. Were things quieter then – or did I simply get up earlier? There weren’t as many trees, not as many bins …. not as many colours.
Back in the days before the trees returned to Beacon Hill, houses would cling to the bare hillside, limpet-like, in fear of descending into the devil’s cauldron below.
Is this art? I don’t know – but there again I’m not sure what art is. Is it photography? Probably – most things are! Do you get pleasure from seeing it? Only you can decide. Did I get pleasure from creating it? Yes.
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