Finding a reason to paint, in search of the sublime.
When does a painting start?
 
At what point does a brushstroke on a canvas cease to be merely a brushstroke and become a representation of something, other than an expression of abstract depth? I am asking this question in regard to my own current paintings, although it technically applies to all paintings in the history of the genre. To put this into some kind of context, I am about to begin on a new series of paintings, or perhaps, more correctly, I am about to begin on a new divergence in the development of my current series of paintings, ‘Personal Topographies’. Through this new tangent I intend to begin to explore the notion of personal topographies in a much more surreal way by introducing elements which retain or suggest a greater feeling of tangibility in their relationship to the observer, whilst remaining only just on the boundary of interpretation. By this I mean including elements which perhaps feel familiar to the observer because they conform to universal norms, gravity, light etc., but are in fact totally ‘fantastic’ in their inception. What I am endeavouring to do here is explore this transitory point at which a painted representation attains the character or at least perception of a ‘real object’.

Something else to be considered in regard to this idea is how closely tied to the nature of abstraction the original inquiry actually is?

To be continued...

"From time to time I have put relevent snippits from my sketchbooks on my blog, I have over time come to the realisation that this has been a missed opportunity for me in terms of the self-isolation residency. Not all artists work in the same way, but for me my sketchbooks are far more that 'places to hold sketchs', they are a thinking place, a personal place that 'allows' anything I may concider in terms of my practice; hence the name for this new' occasional series of posts, 'thinking-allowed'."

"From time to time I have put relevent snippits from my sketchbooks on my blog, I have over time come to the realisation that this has been a missed opportunity for me in terms of the self-isolation residency. Not all artists work in the same way, but for me my sketchbooks are far more that 'places to hold sketchs', they are a thinking place, a personal place that 'allows' anything I may concider in terms of my practice; hence the name for this new' occasional series of posts, 'thinking-allowed'."

I have had time, and space, recently, mainly due to having so many of them out in exhibition at Dunoon Burgh Hall, to begin to consider just how surreal my latest paintings, 'Personal Topographies, really are. They are of course spaces from inside my psyche, amalgamations of real places combined with many personal thoughts and feelings. But something that most of them don't include are any actual, recognisable features. Initially this has been done deliberately, and it may well turn out that it was the right decision, however I have been considering putting some more 'realalistic feature into my newer works. One thing that I have become more and more interested in recently is signage, particulary older examples which may have outgrown their original function. To that end I have begun a series of sketchs to explore the possibilities of such features in my new paintings.

'The Constant Library',  Volume XXVIII:  "Difficult Loves, Italo Calvino."

"The idea for 'The Constant Library' follows on from a recent conversation considering which books had, and continue to have, the greatest affect my life in a variety of different ways. These are the books I can't live without and whenever possible I have a copy of with me wherever I travel in the world; my 'Constant Library."

As any regular readers of my blog will know, if there are such people, I am a big fan of the writing of Italo Calvino, for me he and Georges Perec were perhapos the most interesting writers of the 20th Century. They shared a love of the the ordinary. seeing in it the extraordinary, the everyday which is so unbelievable that we choose to ignore it so as to not complicate our own lives. 'Difficult Loves'; presented here alongside 'Smog' and 'A Plundge into Real Estate', is a series of love stories which are so believable because of their familiarity, there are nuances within each tale which seem to strike a cord of familiarity.

'On my easel' is a series of posts that I am adding to the Self-Isolation Residency Blog which will consider a current painting which is within days or sometimes hours of completion. This isn't quite the same as 'work in progress' as many of the pieces under consideration in this category may actually be complete already. These are generally going to be works which I am reflecting on for one reason or another and it is these needs for reflection which are preventing me from 'accepting' the work as complete.'

Once again I've reached a point where I'm pretty sure the painting process of this piece is complete but where the title still needs considerable work. This piece has evolved from several influences and ideas; it is still heavily influenced my the 'sublime' paintings of Casper David Friedrich, but it also owes a debt to  both Arnold Böcklin's 'Isle of the Dead' paintings and also Antoni Gaudi's Sagrada Família Cathedral in Barcelona. Indeed I often wonder if Gaudi was also influenced by Böcklin's paintings, or by the idea of 'cemetary islands' like  Montenegrin island of Saint George, which may have been  the model for Böcklin's paintings, along with the English Cemetery in Florence, Italy. Potentially all of these influences may be worked into the final title of the painting.

As I have mentioned previously the title of this painting has been somewhat problematic for me, it had the working title 'The Sylvan Meanderings of Friedrich', which in many ways I really liked. I did however have a problem with my inclusion of the word 'sylvan' in the context of the piece. The word and my usage of it were too geographically specific, it stated that this was a place with body and structure, rather than it being a concept which is of course what these paintings really are.

Inspiration struck when I began to see a link between the painting and 'Walden' by Henry David Thoreau, ( I also appreciated the synchronicity of the middle name 'David' being common to both thinkers, when I spotted it ). In my mind I began to imagine a conversation between the two Davids, it would have been theoretically possible as they were both alive during the same period, the first half of the 19th century. This conversation would have of course been philosophical in nature and would actually have probably involved the philosophy of nature. Without saying anymore  my final title has evolved from this notion.

I have been working on this painting for quite some time now, but this week i seem to have started making progress that I'm really happy with. The title is very provisional, it references 'the Isle of the Dead' and I think that nod will remain in some form. But it also feels related to the 'Friedrich Saga' so perhaps it will become something like:
'An Unexpected Encounter with Another Sole Traveler  Enlightens Melancolic Friedrich.'