Some days I envy painters who have the ability to preconceive their paintings. I knew a painter who would make a planning drawing for each painting and even label areas with descriptions of texture and colour. These were like road-maps to his paintings. Then he would attempt to translate the drawing into a painting, coping with all the problems that entailed along the way. I can’t do that.
Part of what keeps me painting is the adventure of it all. I go in without any road-map and without an exit strategy. I don’t make preliminary drawings. There are no dress rehearsals. Believe me when I say there are all kinds of problems with this approach. Sometimes paintings bog down for months or years. I build these things up in layers, creating a new layer with each painting session. They feel very earthy and organic to me. Some paintings need many sessions and many layers before a final image emerges.
This may sound strange but I liken these built-up, layered paintings to compost heaps.
The Source, 2013
In a recent tondo called The Source I had reached a point where the layers had become unmanageable. I had worked on this painting off and on for years and it wasn’t going anywhere. I felt the need to pull back some of the layers to create a refreshed painting surface. I went at it with a dremmel tool, using various cutting bits and sanding wheels to strip back layers of paint, exposing hints of ideas from an earlier stage of the painting. I didn’t know if this stripping back business was going to accomplish anything or not. I guess I had reached a cul de sac and needed to open things up again.
Once I opened up the surface, it seemed like the picture was painting itself. I completed the painting in a matter of hours. That’s the way it goes sometimes.
27th Street 