I arrived on-site early, poised and expectant only to be greeted by a wall of mist only a few metres in front of me. Slightly hesitant but undeterred I kitted myself up and climbed down the ghostly cliff path, glad at least that there weren’t the usual crowds of holiday-makers so commonly found at Kynance. Just as I reached the beach the mist gave way allowing slightly greater visibility towards the cliffs of the bay yet still shrouded 10 metres or so above sea-level obscuring their summits. This was a rarer view of Kynance than the tourist’s sunny post-card view but one which I feel instinctively more Cornish and at home with. Feeling that it was turning into my day I set about capturing the scene only to discover that each attempt to layer the paint was simply washed clean in the silent yet persistent mizzle soaking everything. Every painter knows that once a painting has reached saturation point there is very little that can be done apart from calling it a day and letting it evolve as it dries. Undeterred I worked on through the layers and layers of water, patiently remaking each mark as it was washed away, my graphite clawing and dribbling through the damp. The mizzle permanently flooded and etched itself into the rocks and waves of this piece, yet paradoxically retains Kynance’s beautiful turquoise waters shining optimistically through the grey.