Acrylic and ink on 300 gsm. paper, 50cm. x 70cm.
The application of layers of coloured scumbling, crazed by random marks, scribbled with twigs dipped in black India ink, is followed by intuitive editing. Selecting shapes that appear from the paintings surface; highlighting and isolating.
It is a process akin to -pareidolia – where ones imagination is used to conjure images in the natural world, faces are often seen in clouds, or on bathroom floor tiles; figures on wall surfaces. Look away briefly and back again; the image may be hard to detect or gone completely, only to be replaced by some other face or form.
It is the same with this image, my imagination impulsively selected what I thought to be a Knight Crusader. Once accepted I continued, pushing logic from my mind. Is the forming of such an image part of a subconscious memory? maybe even of some television episode from a distant program? Who knows! Other viewers minds would have conjured something completely different. It does not matter.
Acrylic, ink and charcoal on 300 gsm. paper, 50cm. x 70cm.
I have come to regard memory – like my process of abstract painting – as never fixed, always in flux and infused by the multitude of present moments of recollection.
Memories – or the affective experiences that stimulate the memories – remain as invisible guides in my work, or perhaps are embodied within it. Laying down images then intuitively erasing or overpainting to form new images suggests a link between creativity and memory itself. Such a process of revising previous events, renders memory as active and always partially elusive.
Acrylic on 300 gsm. paper, 50cm. x 70cm.
A moment in time, gone now; all that is left is it’s affective impression. Early morning sunlight streaming through a window to mark the beginning of another glorious day in an otherwise, drab Welsh council house. The sun’s brilliant light refracting through panes and its kaleidoscopic brilliance reflecting off everything within. A dazzling start to a new day. As ever,all seemed well with the world. Oh! that is rather a clichèd phrase. Modern communications technology instantly and constantly remind me that all is never well with the world. Nevertheless my world remains full of such “stolen moments”.
Is it too much to expect that in 2017, all may be well in the world.