Playing with the language of paint

Conversations about painting (with non-artists) have a predictable pattern:

‘Oh you’re so talented!’

‘Thank you,’ I say modestly.

‘I could never learn how to paint’

‘Well no’, I think but do not say. ‘You can never learn how to paint unless you, well, paint’

I remember reading about an experiment about learning. The subjects were all adults and they had been asked to learn how to throw pots. One group was asked to make one or two perfect pots and focus on making them as good as possible. The other group was asked to just throw as many pots as possible and not worry about the quality. So, who made the best pots? The second group of course.

About a month ago I had my first experience of Covid. I was not very ill but I had a fever and did a lot of coughing (which has only just finished). After this came to an end I had a moment of clarity. I thought: Instead of trying to create a perfect portrait, I should just try to paint as many as possible. This is the third one I’ve started in a week (fourth tomorrow). Some of them are commissions and some just working from photos I’ve taken. It feels very liberating

Just playing with the language of paint.

Colour in the Shadows

Back to the ruined church. I want to explore, in a more formal way, the light, shade and colour in the doorway motif. Most people like bright, light colours but I’m always interested in the colours in the shadows. The doorway, with the stones and plants behind it gives me a chance to look into these deeper, earthier shades.