Catching the light at Pakefield
There is a particular weight to the coast at Pakefield, especially where the houses crowd together along the clifftop, looking out over the sand. It is a view I’ve returned to often, but on this quiet day, it was the contrast of the weathered structures against the natural slope that drew me in.
I wanted to capture the feel of the place without overcomplicating it, letting the ink and watercolour find their own balance. In practice, this means working quickly to catch the shift of natural light, starting with loose, gestural ink lines to map out the roofs, gables, and the irregular rhythm of the buildings. There’s a certain honesty in these structures—how they sit stubbornly above the shifting bank, worn by the coastal air.
The challenge with watercolour in a landscape like this is knowing when to stop. I used a muted palette of earthy ochres and sand tones to ground the beach, contrasting them with the varying greens and deep shadows of the scrubby embankment. A sudden band of rusty red breaks the natural tones, a human mark against the hillside that anchors the scene. I kept the sky as a faint, translucent wash, allowing the paper to provide the natural brightness of a coastal afternoon.
The sand in the foreground is barely there, just a series of quick, warm washes that suggest rather than define the expanse. For me, the piece is less about capturing every architectural detail and more about the relationship between the built edge of the town and the open coast below.