The Heat, and the Emptiness, visiting Hawthorn Avenue, Hull, artwork by Andrew Reid Wildman

It was so hot that day, and the sense of desolation was only fueled by it, like a desert, slowly baking bricks, under a sky of pure blue. No shade. No bird song. For hundreds of meters around me, a wasteland of rubble and weeds, a few rows of abandoned terraces. The shell of a Victorian pub. And there is that smell, a dampness, rotting wood, and a heady perfume of wild flowers, poppies and cow mumble and hot tar. I decided to paint the scene.

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