The studio is different, this second day of 2016.
It’s taking some time for the subtle but undeniably permanent changes to sink in. Some can be identified now; the bell paintings I began in December ring at a new frequency – thirty-six hours from now they will finish in a way I hadn’t imagined. There’s a kind of inner ‘glow’ to them – as though they were still in active process of becoming while I was elsewhere attending to christmas gatherings, encountering and engaging family; playing like someone 5 years old and far wiser with dear dear friends; making and sharing beautiful communal music; solving puzzles; sorting buttons by colour and size; breathing the outside air, forgetting worry.
These bell paintings are more fully themselves – I won’t need to work so hard to bring them home.
There’s more room in here, impossibly.
How…? I’ve not moved anything out except – oh ya. The Bell paintings already at the Bean Cellar, and two hanging in living rooms. Paintings that are finished take up a great deal of space and need to move on to some other wall, somewhere else. I’d forgotten how strong they were.
None of my camera batteries have juice left. I find patience, while they recharge and catch up with my curiosity.
While I wait for camera batteries I listen, and realize that a new set of materials call to me for the first time in many years. Paper. Ink. Plaster. Chalk. – these will be a re-visiting, since that’s where I started long ago. Pencil crayon, after seeing a drawing at the Durham Art Gallery that stole my heart in December (it now astonishes me in my kitchen, as it did when I unwrapped it at Christmas).
I feel I want to make use of Black for the first time since rejecting it’s place in my work 30 years ago. It is the absence of colour.
Why black? Now? That’s a curious thing.
Happy 2016, everyone. It feels new and full of promise to me. You too?