Friday, 16 April 2010

There is nothing as satisfying as a sharpened pencil touching soft paper. As I was drawing today in the museum someone asked me if I found it boring. It is not. I am in heaven.

The pace of the mark being made, one, two, three, four, five creates a rhythm. It is a meditation. Whilst my hand is busy and my eye watches (without leading) my mind is free to consider the effectiveness of the piece confirming back to me with glee that the ideas are working. I can also catch those threads of further issues and themes arising from the process and pursue the new ones. And they are coming thick and fast. The temporality is an exciting aspect. I am struck by what is a static mark being animated by me over and over and kept moving, still recording, keeping in the present. We measure a lot of things. Time, space, quality. As I am working I realise this piece is so anti measurement. I have been challenging the measurement of time, of space and especially quality. What conventions can be used to judge this work in terms of quality? Not composition, not representation, not style, not skill. So why does it appeal?




The line of least resistance.

  I love lines. They are secure. Hand rails. They keep the journey on track. For the moment at least. Lines can be questionable but f...