I’ve been working, in series with my books and drawings of the mountain, on these paintings of the evening drawing in, darkness falling.
I’ve been printing short randomised parts from my notebook onto small mixed-media photos and watercolour paintings, to make pieces of work in response to walking through the winter months at the mountain at dusk.
In order to do it, I’ve been working on improving my screen printing skills, and finding a good way to set up so that I can print accuately, and very clearly, but with slight faintness, and disappearing out in places. Through a lot of trial and error, I’ve managed to make it work using small screens on a board on the kitchen table, although I still can’t exactly say how to make the images disappear at the edges. I am starting to suspect that it partly has to do with putting packing underneath, and partly has to do with using old pots of ink, and letting the screen dry out a little, not something that is normally advised.
Today revisiting my work of the last few months; considering what ties it together. Thinking about how to select work for exhibition, what story to tell, and how to tell it. I have not answered the questions which I have raised, but I am making a start.
I will show work made at the mountain, at the time of the drawing down of dark, the limits and ends of perception. Enclosing darkness: dusk, falling light, colours glowing up then fading out. Seen, unseen, disappearing, dissolving. There is a blind spot in our eyes: it makes vision possible. There is a fuzzy edge of shadow, where information and noise mingle.
Why look at these things, why paint them? I might have wanted to make the mountain into an observatory, to be able to find truth and share it, to say “I saw that. I went back to the same mountain every day, and this was revealed…” Any truth that was was revealed to me was not a bright mountain. Looking into the fading light, what I saw from the corner of my eye was the hard strangeness of the ordinary; small, dim, partial, multiple, murky, changing, mysterious.
Testing lots of combinations today – ending the day half way through…
I’ve been working on drawings and paintings today.
These are a group of eight small scrolls I made in watercolour and mixed media, based on my walks at Mynydd Llangyndeyrn:
Just spending a moment tonight looking through what I have made earier today, and wondering where to start next tomorrow. (Answer – one thing at a time, one day at a time, start with colour mixing.)
Aims for tomorrow and the week:
To explore. To step outside of comfortable. To not be precious. To not hold on to things. To step towards my audience. To begin. To carry through. To immerse myself in the work. To enjoy the process.