PONIENTE the warm west wind off the bay as the heat of summer begins to ease. RETORNO a quiet, settled green marking the return to routine after the busyness of summer. VENDIMIA the amber-gold of grapes during the September harvest around Jerez and El Puerto. HIGO CHUMBO the vivid magenta flesh of the prickly pear, one last burst of colour before autumn.
Use them however you like. A wash of background colour, a single brushstroke, a filter, a frame. The prompts this month and every month can be found here.
Two colours. One horizon. A sun that glows like a coin.
All That Glitters is one of those pieces that came together quickly. The warm orange and red of a southern Spain summer sunset, layered and blended in vitamin sea.
Dos colores. Un horizonte. Un sol que brilla como una moneda.
All That Glitters es una de esas piezas que tomó forma rápidamente. El cálido naranja y rojo de un atardecer de verano en el sur de España, superpuesto y fusionado en vitamina mar.
A year after the pandemic, Spain was still slowly shifting. Life returning, but carefully.
The Hours was written by Clarence Greenway in that period, between 2021 and 2022, in the bay area of Cádiz and briefly in England. It’s a book of observations, one hour at a time, from the garden, the beach, the woods, the towns nearby. Nature, light, the ordinary made strange by paying attention.
Here is one hour, from August, at Playa de Valdelagrana: (You can buy the book here.)
VIPALGE 500 Playa de Valdelagrana | 08:52 to 09:52 | Aug 3rd(2021)
In the shade of VIPALGE 500, I sit slunk at sea level on my beach chair. I sit eye to eye with the fairly distant, tiny little waves. The sand, well-combed by a giant rake, is a little chilly underfoot.
Cádiz across the bay is covered in breakfast light. The day is opening up and the shoreline is a string of well-spaced, bright pink, turquoise, electric blue and yellow beachwear.
The sea is a blue sheet elegantly tucked in to all curves of the bay. Sheets praise sheets, say the waves. A fisherman flings his hopes beyond them. The breeze tickles my elbows.
The shoreline is a long glance, a stroll, a ramble, a promenade and a tramp; a child runs to keep up with his dad; a runner checks his watch; a baby is comforted in their buggy; a man speed walks.
Over and over, over and over says the sea. The breeze tickles my left knee.
On the horizon there are five or six white acrylic paint splodges or what look like tiny feathers from pillows in between the headlands of Cádiz and El Puerto. The towns are like crab pincers guarding the bay. I am sitting in the middle, as if I could control them, ready to bite anything that dare enter. I am backed by a number of cheering palm trees.
To my right, pine-tree green comforts sandstone and to my left there is a ceremony of paddle boards floating out to sea like clouds. The sun is creeping towards me as it rises over VIPALGE 500 behind me. The world is as flat as a coin with little ridges of life and development. There are oblivious seagulls out near the horizon enjoying the blue snake-skin sea. There is more coloured beach-ware now. Rituals and routines say the waves.
I see the shadow of my head first and then my knees as the cool blanket is pulled from under me like a tablecloth, leaving me on a hot shiny table. The sun arrives on my neck and I immediately warm up like thawing toast out of the freezer. Above me, the temperature drops a degree every 100 metres.
My world comes alive with Andalusian light, a high contrast of seaside hues. I am sat on golden brown sugar, the sea is blue icing, the sunlight is butter mixed with olive oil and my mind a mixing bowl. Repeat, repeat say the waves.
I stand up, the wind thick with the smell of churros. It is 82 steps to the shore where an old man floats on his back in the shallows. Summer sizzle summer say the waves, welcoming my ankles. My tummy rumbles. I think of tomato and pate on toast. Here, food, says the sea.
A trail of smoke rises from Cádiz across the blue icing, a last extinguishing of night and the first suggestion of life, as the grindstone of the city gently starts turning. Second breakfast? Shouts a seagull.
I walk back over two patches of tiny shells and small stones, from hard wet sand to soft to slunk again. The shoreline is vanilla and bronze. It is body shapes of intent and contentment wearing hats. It is shirtless, long flowing, tight-fitting, hanging, untucked or rolled up and is that someone famous?
An overweight human wanders in and washes and bathes. A sail boat appears from behind Cádiz to hold the balance. The heat rises and three beach cleaners zig-zag past me like robots.
Nell arrives on her bike from down the beach, undresses and slips straight into the endless loosening blue knots of the sea. The day is really waking up. It is primary colours and now a partly blocked view by custom and habit. Cream treacle wash explore and figure out challenge sweat says the world. My neck is burning and a ferry is churning between Cádiz and El Puerto.
I walk down to the sea (now 65 steps) for a swim. The sun behind me starting to sting like a jellyfish.
Three pieces, one obsession: The golden light of late afternoon in Cádiz.
The first, Golden Hour, looks across the bay from Los Toruños Natural Park in El Puerto, the sky softening into gold, one layer of the composition coming from Anna Bellinger’s (@absowm) paint palette.
The second, Golden Hour (the cathedral), takes that same warmth and turns it on the iconic outline of the Cádiz Cathedral, orange against blue, bold and almost architectural in its simplicity.
The third, Golden Hours, breaks the cathedral into nine, a grid of perspectives, the same landmark seen from multiple angles, each panel a different fragment of that late afternoon light.
Three works, the same hour, the same coast. All available in the shop at coastoflight.etsy.com.
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HORAS DORADAS
Tres obras, una obsesión: la luz dorada de última hora de la tarde en Cádiz.
La primera, Golden Hour, mira a través de la bahía desde el Parque Natural de Los Toruños en El Puerto, el cielo suavizándose en tonos dorados, con una capa de la composición procedente de la paleta de pintura de Anna Bellinger.
La segunda, Golden Hour (la catedral), toma esa misma calidez y la dirige hacia el icónico perfil de la Catedral de Cádiz, naranja sobre azul, audaz y casi arquitectónica en su simplicidad.
La tercera, Golden Hours, divide la catedral en nueve, una cuadrícula de perspectivas, el mismo monumento visto desde múltiples ángulos, cada panel un fragmento diferente de esa luz de última hora de la tarde.
Tres obras, la misma hora, la misma costa. Todas disponibles en la tienda en coastoflight.etsy.com.
CHANCLA the cheap rubber pink of beach flip-flops. CALIMA the hazy, dust-filled sky that blurs the horizon during the hottest stretch of summer. TINTO tinto de verano, the red wine and lemonade mix. NOCHE the deep, warm dark of an August night, still holding the day’s heat.
Use them however you like. A wash of background colour, a single brushstroke, a filter, a frame. The prompts this month and every month can be found here.
