Saturday March 19, 2005
The dining room table was restored to full use today, so I’m free to paint once more. Just so long as I clear up after myself, that is. Note for Father Christmas: I’d like a study one day, with writing desk and stuff along one wall and painting table and stuff along the other. And I’d like it in a secluded part of the house so I can leave everything out ready for use.
I’m back to painting the daily postcard even though my head seems to have turned away from conventional visual images just now. I read today that abstraction is the inevitable conclusion of a pursuit of the figurative. Painting images from the head instead of sitting down and sketching what’s in front of me seems certainly to lend weight to the argument.
I spend hours each day now, looking into space and thinking of the things I was taught in Art School all those years back, and what I’ve learned since. And, more particularly, of the art works that light my candle now, in the early years of the 21st Century and at my own stage of life. Now and then I pull my pen out and jot down a few notes.
It’s interesting, but I have no idea at all where I’m going with all this.
Ah well. Time will tell.
Meanwhile, we’ve had a balmy but overcast day. I felt over-dressed in Boston today, not in any smart sense for I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve become rather scruffy in my appearance no matter what I wear. No, it was more a matter of having dressed in winter wear when I should be lightening up, opening my collar, pulling up my sleeves and getting some air into places that’ve been covered for too long.
And, having written that, I begin to find parallels with my thinking on painting…
Graham dropped a bombshell today. “I’m reckoning on having the house on the market in two or three weeks,” he said.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“True. I must come up with something better than Eeeek.”
“I think it’s more of an Ooook situation.”
“How about Ooook, Eeeek? Would that do?”
|‘Postcards from my head’ No. 8
Watercolour pencils make for good contour drawings