As I look back at my many years of painting I realise that each work is a snapshot in
time of my inner being. My preoccupations and moods.What has been happening to me
in my life. The archetypal structure of my psyche as I moved through life, from birth
towards death An enactment that others have done before, and the generations that
follow have still to do..
I suppose that every artist, in their search for themselves tries to discover, and reveal,
or perhaps conceal, their own particular mystery. It can take years of reflection fully to
understand what one has been asking to have revealed, and also to be able to reveal it
in a way that others will be able to understand. Perhaps even reaching a compromise
between my own pictorial imagination and objective reality so it can also be recognised
The question that I ask is, “Will I at the end of my life have produced one final
spectacular masterpiece? Is this what I am reaching towards? Or has each painting
been a masterpiece in its own right?So that when looked at over a period of time, it is
like turning the pages of a book, watching a play, or listening to a piece of music.”
When I look at a painting is it the “What” that I see, or the “What” the observer sees that
matters?, or is it the “How” it was arrived at that others want to know about?, or is it the
“Where” it has taken me to, and if looked at for long enough and in the right way, it may
be able to take the observer to another place. Like an icon, or other meditative object
the paintings need to be revered in the same way not walked past with a cursory
glance.It is well to consider the difference between a sign, and a symbol.
Painting is rather like a journey. One never knows if the journey will be short or long.
Pleasurable or painful. One has to be able to manage the distress and discomfort
making the journey, rather like a pilgrimage, one hopes to be remade in some way. A
new way of being and seeing and reaching the promised land. And of course the
ultimate prize is when one realises that one has created something that has never
existed before.It has not been copied. It is not an imitation of what has gone before. The
brushstrokes that are there only exist because they have been seen by the artist in a
particular way. It is their mark. Only their eyes have seen it. It is a private revelation and
comes as a complete surprise. An epiphany.