I’ve been painting and sketching this lobster for a long time. He has gone off. There is a strong smell of bouillabaisse, but not as nice. Our collie, Fizz, sniffs it appreciatively though.
I find him strangely comforting.
I can’t visit the Aquarium in Plymouth often, so my local fish monger, Richard of Gibson’s Plaice in Exeter supplies me with fish he buys down in Brixham. Of course they are dead. The colours go off quickly.
When I received this lobster he was frozen. A fine dusting of frost covered him. One of his antennae had broken.
I started by sketching him and then I painted him. I have to imagine him alive. By the time I had finished he had turned from blue to black.
All photographs © James Forshall
Catherine Forshall 