My exhibition at The Freudian Sheep was launched yesterday. There were some interesting conversations which I enjoyed and found quite illuminating and validating. The work which seemed to resonate with most visitors was one which I had dashed off almost without conscious effort. However, it probably carried the most intense thought and relevance to the project. The emotional pull of the landscape. It was called Stanley’s Walk. I had tried to reflect and remember the sight of Stanley and my Dad, both in their late 80’s ambling across the Water Meadows against the wind, both wearing trilby hats and leaning on their walking sticks. They were gentle, intelligent souls determined not to give in to the struggles of growing old. They loved the water meadows. Dad delighted in Stanley’s tales of an entire life spent in Sudbury unlike his life, encompassing various UK moves plus three years in Africa, which must have similarly interested Stanley. I completed the small painting within about 20 minutes feeling slightly guilty that it had taken such a short time. Maybe that was why it succeeded? My feelings and thoughts had been crystallised within the quick brushstrokes. If I had added more to it perhaps I would have lost the meaning and it would have become diminished and soul less
