October - 2017
Extracts from, It Fell From an Unknown Height

Before hurricane Ophelia reached Ireland where it was expected to give moderate to sorta heavy winds, its outer-bands sucked up the dust from Africa, dumping them over much of Britain; I woke in my sleepy-eyed state with a London sky washed in a strange orange and sepia tinted glow. It was lovely.

The large painting of Warsaw city that I got started has been scrapped. I white washed it as I was unable to find my way around. Whatever the fuck it was that I was trying to do wasn't happening and it got to the point where it was developing into something completely removed and far from the vision I had for it. I'll try again. Still, I quite like the first layer.

I have also started on a piece looking at the human form. It's a common theme, but it's only the beginning. It's one thing learning to paint again and to make everything look pretty - it's another thing to then paint something that carries meaning. I have a few ideas.

Sometimes I pause between the application of layers. Sometimes it simply needs to dry when using linseed oil, and that can take up to a week and sometimes I simply don't want to continue on with something at that particular time. And I'll often leave paintings for some time before getting back to them. I don't want to force the process. I want to take my time with it all as I re-learn things. I will not force myself to continue on with something if I don't feel right about doing it in that moment. I do actually want to enjoy this shit you know.

I started a new canvass. It's a self-portrait. I already hate it. In the process of learning to paint again I have quickly slipped into a particular way of starting things. This is something I tell myself I need to do in order to learn how the oils work, how they combine, how they sit on the canvass etc I am also trying to find out how I like to paint when I am not too focused on a particular style - I'm trying to see how I paint fluidly and without thought. It's clear to me that I now know and it's even clearer to me that I want to completely break away from it. I have an idea of how I want things to look. It'll save me a considerable amount of oil paint too by doing so. But for now, I'll stick to the 'finding out and learning' process before I venture and stray.

I should take some of these notes with me the next time I try to make photographs. I wonder if one informs the other and visa-versa? I think it does in some ways.

There are books on my desk that I keep meaning to read. Some George Sanders, 84 Charing Cross Road again, The Great Gatsby, A Clockwork Orange and since winning his Nobel, Kazuo Ishiguro's The Remains of the Day and Never Let Me Go. They're stacked next to the laptop and are currently in situe for my clock to sit atop. I'd like to finish my novel one day. I'm too descriptive though in the way that I write and although I love it, it takes forever and I bore and tire easily. If I get bored or tired in whatever it is that I am doing, then it's time to take pause. I haven't written anything for eight years.

That's a big fucking pause.