Something strange happens to me on residencies. Whether it’s the new environment, or the new people, the desire comes. It surprises me every time. No, it’s not for me. Not my thing. But here I am again. Completely and utterly absorbed with painting.
The joy of the skirmish between colours is reawaken. The feeling of the brush of the paper. The lesson in patience, and the want to go bigger and bigger and bigger.
Something is a little different this time though. I’m painting observationally, compliments to the drawings and not the strange barrage of colours and patterns I’ve toyed with before.
With my film camera taking it’s final breath up on the mountain, and now out of commission, I’ve turn to oil and pigments to capture my environment.
I don’t want to over analysis it, qualify it, or concern myself with how this fit into the big picture. Perhaps in a world of academic texts and sculptural logistics, painting is simply my art therapy.