Contemplating The Race

On my wanderings up and down the Glen I always stop at a place I call The Race which is my description of how the river races down over flat slabs of rock and plunges into a deep pool, smoothes out, gurgles around, and then makes off in a sedate manner on it’s onward journey. I always stop there and lean over the barrier to contemplate the Meaning of Life [42, since you ask].

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“The Race”, Acrylics on paper, 42x59cm.

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