Let's Talk Art Blog

My paintings always reach a point where I need to let them sit for a while. I prop them up on the easel or hang them on the wall and distance myself from the making of them and reduce my interaction with them so that in effect I become nothing more than a passerby. It's in these moments that my focus becomes less intense and I can find myself feeling a bit adrift, no longer anchored physically and cognitively by that artwork.

Working with limited colours and materials can give us a new creative freedom to explore, experiment, test and try things out. As creatives, I think we have a natural propensity for problem solving and finding solutions is something we do with every brushstroke or pencil mark. We are always moving our work forward with the ultimate aim of finding a satisfactory resolution of some kind.

It's a similar story with all of my paintings - from the chaotic beginnings to the final resolution, the journey is guided only by what emerges autonomously and my sense of awareness of what is unfolding in front of me.

My trusty sketchbook is never far away, whatever I'm working on in the studio. I see it as a free space, with no rules, just for play. It's a testing ground for ideas, colours and shapes. It's also a dumping ground for left over paint and interesting snippets of collage paper that seem too precious to throw away.

Every painting has it's own special journey. This piece started as an experiment with Gelli plate printing on a poly canvas piece, which I'd picked up at my local art supply store - its was just an off cut from a bigger stretching job they'd done. I'd been printing on papers for a while, but wondered how I could move beyond the restrictions of the A4 size dictated by the Gelli plate (my attempts at making my own bigger gelatin plates using various recipes had all been dismal

This piece was a challenge as I wanted to explore working on a smaller scale. My usual preference for canvas size is twice the size of this piece. I find larger work more engaging physically which creates a momentum and energy of its own. 'Inhabit' has a stillness about it which I think was dictated by the need to remain physically still in order to focus and apply paint in a controlled way.