‘Corked.’

Kate Howe, 2021, oil paint and oil pastel on canvas, 214 x 214 cm Collection: Turner, Painting.

“I can see it now, hands digging in the sand, most of the tiny, dry crystals sliding back down into the hole as it is scooped. You know how it does that? When you are at the beach and you want to do that thing where you dig a hole in the sand until you get to the water and the hole fills up like magic from below?

But when you first dig in hot sand, it burns your skin and it slips back down, every giant handful only removing a teaspoon, and you dig faster knowing that eventually you’ll hit it... cool grains packing under your sore fingernails, and then damp, clammy grit, and then liquid solid sand - ooblic sand, sand thick with sea water and then the tension… I used to slow down and just run my finger through the deepest part of the world I’d just made, moving slowly, rolling the grains under my fingertip  - removing them one layer at a time and feeling the welling of the sea below my hand and knowing there would be a moment when I was not the master any more, the ocean would win and the cold rush would cover me, and some of the walls would slide and my fingers would get buried in a little slurry if I kept it still. And then the water would settle and come clear again. 

Sy says I should call this one “Corked” so that’s what it’s called.”

- Kate Howe