"Foam"

Acrylic on canvas

60 x 60 cm

2020

The wind drives the waves running far over the flat beach. Keep going towards the dune. The beach is wide, but the way, the solid sand is getting less and less. Spray mountains, like dry desert bushes, get smaller and smaller past you and eventually lie and go away. Sometimes I think I'm in the North Sea, icebergs around me. What fun to play with. I'm going to be a child for now. Pick up white cotton balls and blow them into the wind.

"Breakwater"

Acrylic on canvas

60 x 60 cm

2020

Painting waves is not that easy. Even if you paint them from the photo. Especially since as a Swabian you don't see such a spectacle every day. All the more fascinating is the wild spectacle for me.

It is the surprising colors that peek out of a wave. Who suspects yellow, green and brown in the otherwise blue sea? And forever I could stand on the beach on Sylt and watch the waves playing their brute game over and over ......

"Kreuzsee"

Acrylic on canvas

60 x 60 cm

2020

The sea rages wildly and thunderous wild waves hit the beach! What a natural spectacle ... and it never stops - sometimes as violently as here, sometimes gently and calmly! The air is salty, you can see, smell and taste it. Enjoy with all senses!

The heart starts to beat faster when I step onto the dune and look at the North Sea and the vastness of the never-ending beach. Equipped with a thick jacket, hat and gloves, there is nothing better than going for a walk on the water's edge… ..

"Beach walk"

Acrylic on canvas

30 x 70 cm

2019

This picture was taken during my second stay in Sylt.

It was January. A stormy January. The picture shows a section of beach between Wenningstedt and Westerland. On this day there was a storm surge warning for the German North Sea coast and you can see the waves several meters high, guess the strong wind that blew around the ears of the walkers.
The wind drove sand and spray flakes the size of football.
I love this mood when the wave crests pile up, the seagulls “play” with the storm and skillfully plunge into the floods again and again to catch their food.
On less windy days, you might count two or three rows of foam-crowned waves.

An diesem Tag waren sie nicht zu zählen und einzeln nicht auszumachen.