The strange relationship between painting and photography: a source of mystery and confusion. This photo was taken by me in the late 1950s on an old Box Brownie camera. There was almost no settlement then; only our house and one other along the foreshore. I wanted to paint this image and started with a quick acrylic sketch. But it turned into something else altogether. The slightly choppy waters now became the marker of a storm. The still, slightly hazy sky to the north turned into wild storm clouds. Was this a body-memory of how I felt that day, far out on the river in the old wooden boat with my father?
