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Viewing single post of blog Dead and dying flowers

A few days painting. Some time ago I wanted to squidge some paint. Have now done it. One of my early teachers was a man known as ‘Archie’ Campbell. He had this loose manner with his painting, and it has stuck in a recess of my mind, emerging consciously from time to time but probably always prodding and influencing what I do. I have always had a feeling for the juiciness of paint. Outside of my own head it may well be a clichéd notion and connected to early experiences. Thinking about Archie, I wonder if much of what we become takes after the first experience of the duckling, for which all manner of inappropriate creatures can become mother if the timing is right. Archie’s painting was a physical thing, oily and smelling of turpentine. Lovely! It’s really about a desire to return to formative experiences, to repeat?




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