30 works 30 days: A Painting Every Day During April: Hope

'Landscape Reverie,' ink, acrylic and gesso on cardboard, 42 x 24 cm

In my previous post I mentioned lethargy. I have noticed that during this time of coronavirus it seems quite common and manifests itself in many ways. I have friends who simply can't paint at this time. There's no right or wrong way to deal with the deadly situation and constantly worsening news, and personally I find distraction in trying to extend my art practice each day. It helps me feel connected with the world by exploring my inner world, and colour always uplifts me. There may be external restrictions but my inner landscapes run free.

I'm posting a few of the recent paintings made this last week and which have been loaded to the thirty works website. I don't want to slacken because if you miss a day you are out! I'm not following the briefs, I'm using the challenge to create ideas for new work which I will start as soon as my new materials come though I don't know when they will be delivered. However, there is something to be gained by working on unusual materials such as cardboard. They make you re-think your process and of course working speedily brings its own insights whether they are recognising new territory or falling short of one's intention.

'Spring Marching Across Winter,' ink, gesso and acrylic on cardboard, 42 x 24 cm

These 3 on cardboard are suggesting ways I could work with oil paint on canvas. I'm quite excited because through doing this project I've cut some corners and found several new forms and ways of applying paint. 

'Spring Marching Across Winter' was inspired by my daily walks when I noticed the greys, browns and warm neutral colours of winter being gradually invaded by fresh, vibrant greens and the luscious colours of flowers. 'Invasion' is about the way that the structures and meanings we hold as permanent in our lives can be turned upside down in a moment. I liked the immediacy of these 3 paintings but may layer oil paint on future canvases while trying to keep to the spirit of these mixed media works.

'Invasion,' gesso, ink and acrylic on cardboard, 42 x 24 cm

My favourite is the first one because I feel it is more complete though the other 2 have prompts that can be extended when I work on canvas. It's such a good project because it generates energy and a sense of a positive link with the future. Working gives me a more balanced way to think about the current situation and gives me hope.

An Artist's Ideas and Inspiration Going Forwards in to 2020

'Lemba Dusk,' acrylic on canvas, 30 x 22 cm

My first post of 2020! I'm going to write about some of my painting inspiration and potential 2020 exhibitions.

This has been my first chance to write because I've been busy submitting work for 3 opportunities so far this year; one in Germany, one in Bangkok, and one in the UK. These have been quite complex submissions and some have required several PDF documents, long descriptions of past projects and numerous image files. This is the life of an artist; juggling making the artwork along with seeking out opportunities and applying to them!

'Dusk Birdsong, Winter,' acrylic on canvas, 30 x 22 cm

Currently I'm applying to 3 more opportunities and one painting residency. There are numerous opportunities out there on the internet, or if you sign up to newsletters, and the main limits are how much work do you have, do you have time to paint something for a particular theme, and how much does it cost?  

I feel that certain opportunities here in the UK are very exclusive - they say they are also for unknown artists but when you see who is selected you realise that they already had some artists in mind, either known through various connections or whose father is a well known artist. A little research backed up my thoughts on this when I found that a so-called unknown artist who was picked for a group exhibition in London was already many months earlier being 'followed' on social media and commented on by the 'hosts.'  It is certainly not an equal playing field: although I've exhibited internationally for some years now I've never been able to get a certain local news/arts publication to write about my participation! So much depends on who you know and who they wish to promote!

So far this year I've not done as much work as I'd hoped but today I've begun stretching one of several canvases. I'm back to working with oil again, though some of the posted work is acrylic.

Summit,' oil and acrylic on canvas, 30 x 22 cm

The posted paintings:

1. 'Lemba Dusk' is about that magical moment in Cyprus when dusk dissolves recognisable forms into a haze of sunset colour. As I mentioned in my last post, I've been inspired by memories of coastal sunsets in Paphos and the way the land and sky become one colour!  I've watched these sunsets many times and this painting is about the small buildings, vegetation and various elements melting in to the warm colours of dusk.

2. 'Dusk Birdsong, Winter' is about the melancholy sound of winter birdsong. I've listened to it many times while I've walked back out through the forest at Burrswood when the sky to the west blazed with the last warm light and the shrill, plaintive notes of the birdsong seemed to hold an anxiety about whether the light would come back. I chose colours with references to light, and the pure colour touches are my idea of birdsong notes cutting through the fading light.

3. 'Summit' is a painting which was different to the other two in that I had no theme in mind. The summit refers to the accumulations of paint going upwards as I struggled to find a form for the paint but it could also be a landscape.

More to be posted soon.

How I know When a Painting is Finished: Changing Your Mind is Ok!

'The Black Road,' acrylic on canvas, 50 x 60 cm, 2019

For this post I'd like to write about re-assessing paintings, whether they are recent or older works.

I frequently change my view on a painting, regarding whether it's finished or not, either a few days after working on it or sometimes months or years later. 

The painting above was, I thought, not finished and when I wrote about it a few posts back I said I would work on it more. At this point in time I'm seeing it as finished though as artists we can always change our minds and sometimes it's impossible to resist the call to work on something further! I've destroyed several paintings through this call, though there's no need to panic because they simply become something else.

'Sun Fan and Coast,' acrylic on canvas, 50 x 60, 2019

The more I paint the more I let time elapse before committing myself to the idea of 'finish' and for this reason I often work in series. There may be one element which I may not like which later I can find a way to integrate, or some elements which need painting over. Sometimes though, a painting is finished according to its own terms and a better idea is to start another or several others. This nearly always allows me to see if I truly need to continue or if I have merely become bogged down in irelevancies. Another example of a painting I was going to work over is 'Sun Fan and Coast,' inspired by a recent visit to Cyprus.

I'm realising more and more that if re-working a painting will change it in to something completely different, or adding things will over-complicate it or disrupt the composition, it may be better to put it aside and start something else. The reason I now feel this painting is complete is because I feel comfortable with the composition and message.

Here is another painting I looked out recently to repaint, as I sorted through work from a few years ago, but then I decided it is ok; it works within its own terms and also I have lost 'contact' with it. I can not see any particular element I want to change. One of the reasons I have posted it is because seeing a thicker application of oil paint, with textures worked in to the paint, has given me inspiration for my current work. Painting is like a spiral of ideas back and forth, up and down, everything feeding into everything else.

'My Somewhere Else,' oil on board, 45 x 35 cm, 2016

Over the years I have learned to feel more able to let a painting stand still until I feel connected enough to it to allow further work, or a totality appears to my eyes that suddenly feels complete. It certainly needs a lot of looking at work; quiet moments to just sit and try to see what is happening.

The magic of creativity in painting is that you may not see things the same way from day to day. I'm working on a large watercolour and today when I looked at it some elements jumped out at me in a way they had not appeared when I last viewed it - and these elements now seem complete - while others, which I thought were resolved now appear in need of either more emphasis or to be taken out completely. 

Finally, here is one I am still working on. I find the hardest part of painting is the last stages when your moves, like a chess game, become narrower - unless you decide to totally work over the image and start again. This painting was inspired by the realisation that this year I was finding it hard to 'let go' of winter for many reasons. Somehow the colours of winter and the dark days felt cosy and safe, with skeletal branches transformed to bright colours by sunlight, marvellous soft tones, sudden shadows drifting across blocks of trees and fields. I thought about winter as an image in which a figure is shedding a winter coat at the first signs of Spring. This one has been waiting for 2 weeks now because I want to think really carefully before my next moves.

'She Threw Off her Winter Coat and Headed Towards Spring,' acrylic and ink on canvas, 2019

Different but Painted with the Same Hand

'February Poem,' oil on canvas, 60 x 45 cm

I used to worry a lot about consistency of approach in my work but in the last few years this worry has simply become irrelevant. I don't censor myself because everything feeds into my core approach and both figuration and abstraction overlap in my work. Ideas spin off in to other ideas and I want to keep it all flowing. 

Before art school I was initially tutored by a traditional landscape artist and the first painting I am posting reflects this. It is being entered for a landscape event and it was inspired by a group of trees I pass several times a week. I love the colours of winter (even though most of my work is brightly coloured), and while much of my work is process driven, this ended up being an intense exploration of those subtle winter colours and the movement of branches. Sometimes I like to return to this more figurative mode of working because it helps me 'tighten up' my abstract based work and pushes me to think about edges and drawing, which are as important components in abstraction or spontaneous ways of working as they are in figurative paintings.

'Integration,' oil and acrylic on canvas, 100 x 140cm

This second painting is a work that is still in progress - a previous version was posted quite recently - and I am still thinking about it. I wanted a lot of empty space in this painting and the theme is integration and I wanted the figures to integrate with the 'bricks' of colour and to become brick-like in places, and for various shapes to emerge from the landscape to symbolise evolving ideas and connections. This is largish, 100 x 140 cm.

'Eventually the Light came back,' acrylic and ink on canvas, 60 x 45 cm

I am also getting back to working from my ink paintings and taking ideas from them on to canvas. I enjoy the life of brush strokes. The above posted painting may still be in progress. Once I have finished the more figurative based paintings I will be painting a series of ink works on rice paper and taking them on to very large canvases to explore the liquid qualities of paint, mark making and drawing with colour.

My main point is, do what you need to do. Let it make sense later when connections may be revealed. This way new ideas slowly filter through and there is no right or wrong way.

PS. I was pleased to find that my painting 'Land Spirits' arrrived in Macedonia safely (posted in the previous post).

The Far Edge of Winter

This painting says everything about the potential of the approach of Spring, and the rising waves of energy I feel as a painter. Though it's still like the arctic here, I have struggled to go outside with frozen fingers and feet, to start some new landscapes. In comparison with last year, when the colours of Spring excited my eyes and brush much earlier in the year, there isn't much sign of impending change yet. But I can feel it, especially in the changing quality of light.

My painting embodies my preoccupation with the impending surge of light and colour. Though made from a drawing of Nicosia, my delight that day was in the luminous sunlight, the washing blowing in the breezes, a bird circling the rooftops, some men replacing some roof tiles, and plant pots on rooftops. There was also a Digger, which was demolishing some old buildings, to make way for the new. I chose this painting to mark the far edge of winter, and brighter, more optimistic times to come.