I've been painting most days recently, banging out a new canvas each week. On reflection I realise that when I paint I have absolutely no pre-conceived idea about what is going to appear. I have no direction, no concept. I just put down some colours and get started. I am not doing the painting, I am just following it along, being guided by instinct, impulse, lead by the spirit of the work itself.
It's an interesting way to work and suits me. If I try and do anything with any structure or enforced direction or content, I immediately feel uncomfortable. I like to just cruise along, chuck down some colours, some lines, shapes - you know, see what comes together.
This way, there is no pressure. No wrong or right, no expectation. I am experimenting, playing, going with the flow. It's a pleasure.
And that is why I paint in the first place - to enjoy pure expression.
After each one is finished, I'll spend some time with it, over a few days, weeks or months and get into it. I'll put the fresh ones up somewhere that I can see them and enjoy them on another level - as an observer. This brings another, different, round of interaction. I know that I made the image and can look back at different areas and choices I made in the process and recreate how it came together, consider what I have created.
In many ways, it's quite an esoteric procedure from start to finish. From blank canvas to a complex, living visual personality. I may not know what I am going to say when I commence but they each certainly say something, at once distinct and ethereal in the end.
I don't try to analyse. My appreciation is purely visual, emotional. The colours are tasty. The shapes are interesting and playful. There's a mood, an atmosphere. Something exists where once there was empty space.
The artwork will then go on to call out to others, show itself - and from each viewer elicit a personal and unique response. Because when making it, I had no concept in mind and it wasn't until the work was complete that it claimed an identity, I do not have any investment in how people respond to the work. Once it is done, I'm an equal viewer. Of course, because I was there for the whole procedure I have a unique relationship with it but it's common for others to derive a lot more pleasure from my pieces than I do. And that's great.
I love to try to imagine what others see and get from my paintings. It's such a complex and emotional response, unique to each, that I can only do just that: imagine. Paintings evoke intricate and powerful feelings. That's part of their charm. And their openness to interpretation. They don't have a manual. There are no guidelines, rules for responding to an artwork. You look at it as you do, see what you see, feel what you feel and in those minutes that you are doing it, well, that painting is all yours.
It's an interesting way to work and suits me. If I try and do anything with any structure or enforced direction or content, I immediately feel uncomfortable. I like to just cruise along, chuck down some colours, some lines, shapes - you know, see what comes together.
This way, there is no pressure. No wrong or right, no expectation. I am experimenting, playing, going with the flow. It's a pleasure.
And that is why I paint in the first place - to enjoy pure expression.
After each one is finished, I'll spend some time with it, over a few days, weeks or months and get into it. I'll put the fresh ones up somewhere that I can see them and enjoy them on another level - as an observer. This brings another, different, round of interaction. I know that I made the image and can look back at different areas and choices I made in the process and recreate how it came together, consider what I have created.
In many ways, it's quite an esoteric procedure from start to finish. From blank canvas to a complex, living visual personality. I may not know what I am going to say when I commence but they each certainly say something, at once distinct and ethereal in the end.
I don't try to analyse. My appreciation is purely visual, emotional. The colours are tasty. The shapes are interesting and playful. There's a mood, an atmosphere. Something exists where once there was empty space.
The artwork will then go on to call out to others, show itself - and from each viewer elicit a personal and unique response. Because when making it, I had no concept in mind and it wasn't until the work was complete that it claimed an identity, I do not have any investment in how people respond to the work. Once it is done, I'm an equal viewer. Of course, because I was there for the whole procedure I have a unique relationship with it but it's common for others to derive a lot more pleasure from my pieces than I do. And that's great.
I love to try to imagine what others see and get from my paintings. It's such a complex and emotional response, unique to each, that I can only do just that: imagine. Paintings evoke intricate and powerful feelings. That's part of their charm. And their openness to interpretation. They don't have a manual. There are no guidelines, rules for responding to an artwork. You look at it as you do, see what you see, feel what you feel and in those minutes that you are doing it, well, that painting is all yours.
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