I often question what I am doing when I’m painting and what I may be trying to say. Paintings don’t translate into written language very well, they can be described but not explained. I know what I’m doing with paint, how it behaves and how to mix colours. However, it often surprises me and behaves unpredictably or strangely and after many years I’ve found that the best thing to do is to let the paint have its way most of the time. However the amount of changes possible are limitless, so if something is not "working" one can just paint over.
Sometimes I end up fighting with a painting, hating it and wanting to wreck it because it is smug, silly or predictable. It takes a lot of nerve to change and ruin a painting because by the time you are into a painting there is an instinctive protectiveness for it. You don’t want to change or destroy it but usually you must because that is the only way it will become better. I feel that in the end the painting will tell you what it is.
I used to start with something visual but now try to start with nothing except a colour or some initial brush strokes. I will not explain my paintings. They change course as the process goes on and end up being something not expected and often strange. I think I know they are done when I begin to like them and have become fond of the strangeness.
Sometimes I end up fighting with a painting, hating it and wanting to wreck it because it is smug, silly or predictable. It takes a lot of nerve to change and ruin a painting because by the time you are into a painting there is an instinctive protectiveness for it. You don’t want to change or destroy it but usually you must because that is the only way it will become better. I feel that in the end the painting will tell you what it is.
I used to start with something visual but now try to start with nothing except a colour or some initial brush strokes. I will not explain my paintings. They change course as the process goes on and end up being something not expected and often strange. I think I know they are done when I begin to like them and have become fond of the strangeness.