Day 42

Study: Sole Persimmon | 46 x 46 cm
Oil on Linen

I would go on about the weather, the light and a mid-afternoon music crisis but to do so would not only be redundant and off-brief, it would distract from the real news of the day. After a looking-over in tomorrow's morning 'light' (and all the chromatic glory that's likely to be packing into my retina) I think this here single Persimmon is just about ready for it's first top shelf Piña Colada. Yes, I admit, the longer it's been since I ate, the thicker and fluffier I squeeze the goodness out of my tubes - all the while smacking back the odd synergistically-induced salivatory surge. And I do believe passages of this surface could ballast birthday candles. Something switched on today freeing me from the urge to look still harder at this so-ripe-it's-almost-confectionery subject and illustrate only what I see. Sometimes the painting can show the way. Like Brother Spurgeon says of the process - often the only thing you can do is let the big dog take you for the walk - where it wants to go. So it was.

Day 41

Study: Sole Persimmon | 46 x 46 cm
Oil on Linen (In progress)

It was slightly on the ambitious side to think that I could finish this sharon fruit last night - or even today, for that matter. After hour upon hour of sweeping, scraping back, mixing, laying paint down, lifting it back out and laying it back in re-mixed, all I managed was to simplify the planes of this deceptively simple fruit and twist it more into shape and contour. A month ago I had the great priviledge of multiple visits to the much lauded Velazquez exhibition here at the National Gallery. And what magnificence there was to behold - magical skills and ground-breaking techniques arguably unrivalled over the passing centuries since. Vast compostions of multiple figures, spanning acres of canvas, all impeccably understood and executed with perhaps a little hubris and a goodly dash of God fear. I remember mentioning as I stood staring stupefyingly at the hypnotic sorcery before me - at the almost sacred devotion to both subject and viewer - "Golly, I can't wait to get back to my studio and impose my will on that tricky old lemon I've been wrangling with." Whether we're talking about complexly populated figurative compositions or even a simple fruit - nothing beats having something to actually - you know - show for your efforts in this show-me-better than-tell-me business. But that must be what hooks us to start with.

Day 40

Study: Two Pears | 46 x 46 cm
Oil on Linen

As I said in my last post, I'll not use this blog to wax lyrical about non-painting matters that might directly interfere with my painting activity. But - if I were to go into it - I'd say after exorcising Hell's Junta from my operating system over the weekend - I had a darned righteous day of painting today (so far.) I'm threatening to make up for a lost weekend and further simplify my sharon fruit later this evening. On freshly stretched linen, these two pears have been delightful company over this scattered sunshiney day. Although, clearly, there are far too many flocks of colour on the birdfarm of this painted surface. I just can't help myself. My sound system is back in action and ushering me more swiftly into my zone and for increasingly longer stretches. It's been said, by more sagely sources, that when one engages in the intensive observation of objects, it can seem (unless you're Giacometti) as if they gradually become enormous, maybe even monolithic or architectural. Like places that we wander around looking, staring, squinting. I had a pleasant taste of this today. Then it all became very complicated again - like trying to construct a faithful scaled model of the Sydney Opera House - using only a couple of decks of cards.

Day 37

Away from the easel today sorting out some necessary framing, transport (and not a few) technical issues. Will update the day's events later. [Later] I had to design and construct a new transport container system for shipping my pieces. There's quite alot to consider here not least of which is the matter of wrapping something that doesn't like being wrapped, and attaching protective structures to a thing that likes this even less. Oh, and there's also the wet-painting or dry-painting question. Wax paper, an obvious candidate as the second level of protective security here, is simply not so readily available as it was in the days when it would ensure the freshness of every PB&J sandwich that featured in my elementary school lunchbag. Although thinking back, this freshness was always lost somewhere in that wide, purple, apple-shaped crater that came from the cozy and not quite business-class journey. The other thing that kept me from quality time at the easel - as if the curve of fine art shipping was't steep enough - was a trojan horse. But there isn't, and never will be, enough time or space in even this humble daily record for such a heinous intruder.

Day 36

Sketch: Pear II | 35 x 35 cm
Oil on board

I should work these exercises in observing information into the more slots in the week. But that would be to imply that there were slots. (Slowly slowly kiss the grasshopper - what?). My struggles of late - excluding the lapse last week - have been more about seeing than handling. And when this happens, it's always a booming indication that drawing is far from the mind's most recently nourished. So in addition to every other sage's from the annals of art's take, the best for me is from the one who said - "no amount of paint can make a bad drawing - or idea for that matter - a good one." Here's to ya, Windsor Joe. Last time I returned to basics I had a (kinda) fabulous following session. I hope this isn't because it's also usually time to scrape clean the palette (when I start losing it) that actually makes the difference.

Day 35

Study: Sole Persimmon | 46 x 46 cm Oil on linen (in progress)

What began as a rather stressful day actually turned out to be one of the better ones. The sale of one of my favourite paintings was more sweet than bittersweet but I'll still be sad to see it skip on down the road so soon. Today also delivered a rather viable opening on the framing front - thanks to the resourceful and boundless benevolence of Comrade Oleski. This and a number of other administrative non-painting painting matters made for most of the day. However I did manage to get on much more nicely with the tools and subjects. The sharon fruit - though still something of a warring continent of states of colour crashing into one another - is still, I feel, crashing in the right direction. As I chase the planes of colour around and around the elusive imaginary planes, trying to give it volume, I keep coming scraping back to that same benighted left side where reflected light is too cool and a deepening the tonality just won't shine. But I'll just have to play her game for a little while longer. A couple of hundred days on from now and I'll look back on such strife and l-a-a-augh...

Day 34

Nocturnal Study: Chili | 56 x 35 cm
Oil on Board (in progress)

Study: Sole Persimmon | 46 x 46 cm Oil on linen (in progress)

At the risk of being repetitive - I'm hard pressed to imagine exactly how the light of day could possibly be any more absent. However, I took to these two unfinished studies today hoping in vain to take advantage of their stringy moistness, finish them up, and then put them on the drying rack to await, well, drying. There were parts of the chili I felt could be warmed up and made cleaner - and there were parts of the sharon fruit I just plain needed to face. I have to mention that the day's frustration did draw blood. As I reached (in the dark) for a pristine filbert brush and discovered it to be as stiff as yesterday's crumpet - annoyed I tried to crack it in half - only the ferrule popped off, lacerated my paint-stabbing hand in two places. Bandaged and healing now, it occurs to me that the crimson breaks added to the highlights on the chili smack of an eye-for-an-eye style of retribution on these very innocent subjects. Back to it tomorrow with a little more humanity.

Day 33

Study: Sole Persimmon | 46 x 46 cm Oil on linen (in progress)

Regretably by the time I got back to my machine last night - to add an entry to this project - the British Telecom servers had other plans. Yesterday's long long lunch was both substantial and liquid - and will be the last of its kind for a while. The friends are off to the jolly west coast, USA, and will be sorely missed. Today, despite the feeling that I might not be right until around Thursday, I stretched some linen and trapsed down the road and plucked up this sharon fruit for another go in that fledgling series (another one I ate for medicinal purposes). Just moving paint for now, building space and surface and generally finding my palette. At least that's the line going on the record. It's simply a joy to have painted 2 out of last 3 days after my week-long interruption. I have many emails to catch up on now that the machine is rigged up again. Hopefully my long-distance painting coach, Meistro Oleski will bear with me as he suffers through the big freeze.

Day 31

Nocturnal Study: Chili | 56 x 35 cm
Oil on Board (in progress)

I'll add more to this before bedtime but wanted to get the image up before I go out for dinner. But I will say, we're back at the easel. [Then later] Yes, this session almost suffered the fate of almost every other this week as I struggled to get everything set up and ready to go. After scraping off a depressing (and expensive) mass of of unusable paint from my neglected palette, I set out to do a loosening-up sketch of this robust little charmer from a stand down the street. Well it seemed the more I squeezed out the more I felt like laying down. And eventually what started out as a thin, brushed drawing study occasionally started to peek out at me from behind my efforts as a sort of painting. So much time was spent over the last week thinking about the simple pleasures of what I might do when I finally got back to it. Curiously much of it actually began to carry-on without me and eventually it carried me away with it. I'm glad I didn't leave it any longer.

Day 30

Ah yes. It's been a long slog but well worth it. I've got shelf space galore and a well-diminished computer 'footprint' that will both physically and psychologically spring me to the next phase in this process. I certainly don't want to be putting myself in these types of positions too often, but the unholy combination of my ADHD and multitasking shortcomings unfortunatetly make for a fairly one-card-at-a-time game of cards, so to speak. The good news is that many things that were hanging over our collective heads have now been eliminated and both of our working lives should - functionally - take on a whole new positive direction. The other good news is I will finally be back at my easel tomorrow. Then, at long last, I can reflect on these trying and physical last few days of sacrifice as I wander fields of creamy pigment - one lick at a time.

Day 29

I made it out of the house today only briefly to pick up some survival rations. Along the way I noticed plenty of subjects to study amongst the many fruit bins on display. But...I'm not painting in new space yet and I'm still using a borrowed machine so haven't been able to check my emails lately. If yesterday's comment is anything to go by, a number of regular visitors must be wondering what's up. Basically the small remodelling/ studio revamp did expand considerably, as these things do, to include sorting out bad plumbing, leaky showers, penetrating damp (oh my) - and seemingly just about everywhere I poked a brush or screwdriver in the process of creating these (two) new workspaces there's been an unforeseen issue to be addressed - and now - while every tool in my arsenal is to hand. We've finally gotten "top side"of it now after a serious run of 18-hour days and I can confidently declare that I'll be spreading pigment before my Michael Harding flake white arrives after nearly 2 weeks waiting - or by Friday or Saturday. Then, my next break won't be until I go to my niece's graduation in June - (Allah willing, of course).

Day 28

There's always tomorrow.

Day 27

As far as painting, it was all eggshell. Patched some holes in plaster. Repaired a leaky radiator (after finding the parts at the local plumbing shop.) Also built an integrated floor-to-ceiling airing rack / monitor stand - reclaiming about 15 square feet of work space. The rack is for storing dried and drying paintings - if ever I make any again. That's about all that's happened around here in my agitated reality - for now.

Day 26

Marian | 24 x 36 cm
Oil on canvas, 1992

Still no painting. Shelves are up, primed and undercoated (and underventilated) and I'm still at least two days from being back up and running properly. Falling behind, I recalled the last time that I felt like I was losing some hard-established momentum and circumstances were working against me was in 1992 in Zaria, northern Nigeria. It's too long to go into here but I was on my back with Malaria (soon to be followed by Dysentery) and had to finish this 'portrait' of the admired, Marian, commissioned by her admirer. It was my first commission - and the last time I ever worked strictly from a photo (never having met this Fulani princess) and only with small brushes. And apart from the presumed kudos of having been to such a challenging corner of the globe, this should probably never see the light of day - if not for the other fact that occurred to me. My dear friend, Ibrahim (the admirer) has long since returned to the busom of his Maker, and the painting had to be presented to her family by the executor of his estate. This brings me back to the brief. The now.

Day 25

Study: Pear | 76 x 76 cm
Oil on linen

It would be an understatement to say that studio life is on the hectic side here at the moment. Far from being a lazy Sunday afternoon, I was left on my own to get on with priming and painting shelves. Then I had one of those groundhog moments where I'm trying to decide the best attack on said task, when I notice my own shadow being strown across the empty stuidio floor before me. The scramble was on - where's the pear study - will it still be wet enough? Where's the easel? Uptstairs - no downstairs. Paint? Downstairs - no, upstairs. I repositioned everything (after a fruit-bruising collapse that occurred during yesterday's sofa- out-the-window maneuver) and - not quite just like that - I was struggling away with the last stab at this oversized l'objet d'amour. Perfection is only 999 studies away now, instead of 1000. Whether I get another piece of time on this one or not, the idea of it eventually hanging on someone else's wall will be a struggle.

Day 24

Not 45 minutes ago my lady and I were passing a 3-seater white leather sofa from the raised ground floor studio window to the basement garden floor below - just like the salad days! So, as you might have guessed, no painting again today - but the studio re-design and construction work is going to make quite a big difference. The Czech tradesman was here as scheduled and got to about the halfway mark in Operation: Get-It-On-a-Shelf. He returns on Monday to put in the remaining 8 shelves. I am using the laptop of my beloved to post this as my machine is dismantled and lazily waiting for a new work surface. Needless to say, easel work is not looking promising again for tomorrow, but I'm relieved to be anxious to resume. This is a big change from expecting, accepting and allowing distractions to interfere like in those unfocused and unproductive days of old.

Day 23

Hunt Cliff, Saltburn-on-Sea
46 x 76 cm
Oil and Acrylic on linen, 2006

No work was done at the actual easel today but I did lay a hand on just about every piece and implement to do with that very activity. This is because everything had to be moved out of harm's way to make ready for the Czech fitters of custom bookcases tomorrow. No more will the tools of my torture lay orderly at my toe tips. Shelving for books, fruits and vegetables (that have a pose or two left in them) will take comfort off the beaten path for a change. The painting posted today attempts to depict one of the finest views in all of England - from the third floor of converted Victorian hotel, Alexandra House in Saltburn, Yorshire. It's also one of those inspirations that moved me to return to this life. One of my dearest supporters resides there and welcomes guests with unrivaled bountiousness and grace. So don't worry (Pol) this isn't stopping - just some overdue workspace refinement.

Day 22

Again we awoke to heavy snow that floated on down well into the morning. This first day of the fourth week of doing this blog was almost completely taken up with administrative tasks. Chasing up orders, sourcing new framing solutions and setting up spread sheets for my comings and goings. There was some time spent briefly on my on-going head study. Scraped it back and then came into it thinly with the knife again. My muse and I started feeling pretty good about it. Then came that most difficult of challenges. Wrapping the cheek bone and barrel of the mouth back around into the shadow area. Lordy, it turned ugly again. It's fairly often said that in every portrait there's a little bit of self-portrait. I can now freely say that I'm finding in this artist's self-portraits, there's a little tangerine over here, and a little pumpkin there... I would have posted it, but it would only have confused and worried my support network. I do have a witness, though, who is unbiasedly prepared to vouch for the fact that it was indeed worked on - and for a moment, competently so.

Day 21

Study : Pear | 76 x 76 cm
Oil on linen (in progress)

I declare - the sun did shine today - and for the whole day. It wasn't until the sun dropped below the row of houses behind that I realized after standing in front of the easel for about 6 hours it was time to hit the men's room. This study feels more within my grasp again and I'm hoping this lasts until my flake white arrives tomorrow and I can get my head out of this glue-sniffer's bag of a studio. Today officially marks the beginning of week 4, and considering the fact that I actually returned to the easel after posting that evil head study the other day (or even yesterday's, Oleski) I feel my living process - the one this blog habit is trying to enforce, is well underway. Even with heavy snow forecast for tomorrow I feel spring is in the air - to go along with those rare but welcome waves of yeast abrewing from our nearby brewery.

Day 20

Study : Pear | 76 x 76 cm
Oil on linen (in progress)

Back to my pear study today, I expect at least another day before I can call it a wrap. The expected delivery including a fat bucket of flake white didn't arrive, so I made do with that wafty titanium white, instead of holding things up until tomorrow or later. And by the days end, my eyes surely were glossy from the fumes coming up off of my plate glass mixing area. A larger format, and more real estate to physically cover means I'll need to rediscover parts of the form lost from the underpainting. I continue to be tempted to look for opportunities to leave more of the underpainting, but the next time I look, it's deep beneath a saucy bed of pigment. Lastly, I'm going to go ahead and say that I should probably have grown out of garrish pink and green juxtapositions some time ago - along with about 150 other things - but I'm not running to the padre just yet - it is only Day 20 of this oily organic reunion, afterall.

Day 19

Nocturnal Head Study
(Stage 3 detail) | 46 x 76 cm
Oil on linen on board

Would anyone believe me if I said that sometimes you wake up in the morning and you just feel the need to make yourself pretty and there's not a darn thing anyone can do to stop you? No? Well, sometimes there's not a lot to say about this life that the paint isn't already. I will reveal, though, that many hours passed and no suitable light was likely going to come and I didn't feel like finishing my pear in the dark. So on came the overhead light, and out came this mouthless old head study. A few more hours passed and I noticed, to my shame, that although the likeness and other things were coming together - I was doing just about everything my objective is not about, including getting precious about a head study - and not only that - there was a small brush involved. And when this happens there's only one thing to do to rescue the integrity of the exercise. Knife. Weird head but it meant more time enjoying the medium, some vivid healthy suffering and, mostly, just painting.

Day 18*

Nocturnal Pear One | 31 x 36 cm
Acrylic on board

Every once in a while there will be days when I'll post pictures that haven't actually originated on the day* posted. There are plenty of admirable examples of these types of "painting-a-day" blogs already online. Since I'm in the process of compiling images to go on my website, I thought I'd throw in these recent 'pre-fat' acrylic studies, I came across today in that process. There was no painting today. Easel activities will resume tomorrow, rain or rain.

Nocturnal Lemon One | 36 x 31 cm
Acrylic on board

Nocturnal Pumpkin One | 36 x 31 cm
Acrylic on board

Two Aubergine | 46 x 46 cm
Acrylic on Linen

Day 17

Preliminary Sketch: Pear | 76 x 76 cm
Oil on Linen

The promise of sunlight I mentioned in the previous posting did not disappoint. So after quite a bit of arranging, placing and replacing - and trying different painted vignettes and surfaces - I finally plopped yesterday's pear into position for what I'm hoping will be the first multi-session study in amplified sunlight in weeks. I've also increased the scale (relatively) considerably to 30x30 inch stretched linen. Because there's so much more of everything at this size (especially once I get thick with it), I'm extending the lead time at the drawing stage to better undertand the many braking planes of colour before I start whipping the fat into on glass, as it were. So, although right now this looks a bit grafitti-ish in spirit, the planes of colour are as yet only cool and warm indications of where I'm seeing colour in this first run up. The rest of the garrishness is probably down to sheer exuberance at all that glorious light and abundance of space. These winter days can be as dark and grey and short in span as you like, but once the sky does light up in the other part of the year - I could be painting well in to the night come mid-summer. I'll take this for now though.

Day 16

Oil sketch: Pear | 35 x 35 cm | On board

As I mindlessly perused the fruit bins on the Uxbridge Road, talking on the phone to my very talented buddy, Colin, it came to me abrubtly like a call waiting on the other line - a saying I hadn't heard since primary school in deepest rural North Carolina - "Shake it, don't break it! Took yo' mama too long to make it!" There peeking at me from the shady side of the bin - Her Hoochiness. Just the subject I needed for a quick sketch on a cloudy afternoon (by artificial light) to preserve the enertia. She'll definitely find her way onto linen over the coming 3-day 'sunny season' that's been forecast. Up until I began this blog, I was doing these tonal underpaintings in acrylic - benefitting (I thought) from the drying time and building up a rich surface. But now, I have huge fun tonking and scrubbing and pushing and pulling thin oil around. Trying to capture the form and its space as I work it over and overwork it without being up against that drying speed. Now I only worry about stopping before it looks like a pretentious little sanguine field trip souvenir.

Day 15

Oil sketch | 35 x 56 cm | On board

Today, was and continues to be, a day for regrouping, reflection and tidying things up around here. This swift diagram (or oil sketch) marks the beginning of week 3 in this project. The bottle is one (of two) I picked up on the Portobello Road while out on a 5-hour walk last Sunday with my beloved. Kind of scratched and chalky, its been lubed down with some refined linseed oil to help with transluscence and shine. Part of this 'drawing exercise' was to continue to observe closely but to consciously leave out overt texture and record colour of light quickly in the limited sun time provided. I'm not going to be planning any barbeque or anything just yet but we are supposed to get 3 straights days of sun (or as much as we've had since like September) from Saturday. We'll see.