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Behind our Ashburton lodging grew a potato patch. Behind the potato patch withered a row of little old cars. The land owner had erected a flash new Quonset to showcase his bright, shiny, restored car collection. I left a note on the locked gate. The spud grower phoned, and through his rather muddy accent, said pictures were ok, with him. In a dewy dawn we hopped the fence to search the Canterbury castaways for texture. Crackle can either create a problem, or be a desired effect, for painters. But I discovered this exquisite gilded sample swatch in auto parts.
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