I've tried to start this post countless times since Friday, when I was supposed to write it. Each time I got no further than around two sentences before grinding to a halt. Maybe I couldn't quite focus, or maybe every idea was a bit thin, a bit lacking in substance. Whatever it was did not matter, it simply kept on happening. At the same time, whenever I got to thinking about painting, I realised that I could in fact
be painting. Which, in many cases, was what I ended up doing.
Now while painting may seem on the surface to be a good thing (remember, every day of painting is a day of victory), my unfocussed mind proved something of a hindrance. I painted, yes, however I painted oddly, as if I were someone else. With an unfocussed mind, I allowed older methods to direct my hand and they proved far to controlling and… reasoned. This has left me with the task of undoing a certain amount of my work, to try to push it to where it needs to be, not where it is.
All that aside, since Wednesday I have started three new paintings and totally reworked an earlier unsuccessful one that had been stagnating for months. I also varnished six more panel paintings and re-varnished all fourteen of the paper pieces I made last month.
It has been a curiously busy few days. The amazing thing in it all is that I have no reason for doing this. There is no exhibition or competition imminent that I am working towards. I am doing what I am doing because it is what I do.
