At life drawing this morning I remembered a snatch of old poetry. I think it might be from an Icelandic saga. Or it could be from Sir Gawain. While I was trying to remember, it worked its way into my painting. I’ll have to consult my bookshelf later to dig out the reference.
This painting took about 40 minutes and it’s still rough and ready. I started it in pencil, but it felt too tight, so I just went in freehand with permanent ink and a brush and somehow the adrenaline took over!