Six weeks and eighteen paintings later

What life looks like this morning

The months of November and December have been unprecedentedly wet, sometimes cold and wet but pretty dam miserable. This has meant no gardening but a great deal of time in the studio.
Six weeks in fact. A great luxury.
Whilst my mental state has not been its best I have at least had the joy of pushing some of my ideas and compositions further than before. Sketches and ideas from Crete have taken some time to evolve, with some turning sour and having to be abandoned but the beginnings of Erik 2 has started to unfold.
It looks as if it will be a lot darker in telling than the first story with a good deal more drama. But that's for the writing to unfold which will come later.

New painting

Anyone who has ever tried painting for a living can connect with the fear of the creative block.
It happens to us all. Knowing this is the secret to preparing for the inevitable.
When ever I go on a trip for any length of time I carry a highly developed mini studio of tricks in my bag, nothing unusual about that you may say, but the use and force these sketches, observations, make to continued working, even through these tough patches when the creative muse is vacant, is irreplaceable.
It is a long held belief that mistakes are not productive, I would argue the opposite.
It is understanding the mistakes and turning them to your creative direction that marks the difference between many an artist and the person sitting next to you on the bus.
My sketch books are far more than idol jottings filling in time between the next great canvas and sleep. They are where I allow myself to make mistakes and discoveries. They are often my best work. Representing as they do that interaction at the coalface of inspiration and execution.
And in those dry fallow times the are the key that sets the imagination flowing again.
If you want to know more about an artist, look for the sketchbooks. Here you find the raw edgy stuff that makes them tick.