Why I paint

At one time, I would have said that painting gave me a lifeline due to my struggles with depression. However, the pictures I produced were dark reflections of my mood. Having left those years behind due in part to medication, my outlook has changed. Now, I only want to paint compositions that have a positive impact on my wellbeing. 

My still life reflects the happy world I live in most of the time. In a way, they are therapy because the concentration keeps me focused on something essential and prevents me from being too introspective. What I don’t do is paint to make a statement about my beliefs. Some of those are private, others subjective and, if I want to express them, better done in words.

I take a lot of pleasure in overcoming challenges, particularly when I combine images from different sources, which require a lot of artistic licence to get shadows and highlights correct. At one time, when a picture wasn’t successful, I would feel despondent. Now, however, I spend time analysing the whys and wherefores and enjoy working out why, which provides a welcome sense of progression. 

The act of mixing paint and putting it on a canvas is rewarding. Sometimes, it is a childlike experience, like playing with wet stuff without getting into trouble for covering the kitchen table! Seeing it flowing from a brush and feeling the texture is almost magical. Pleasure for the sake of it. My studio, too, is a special place. It is more than just somewhere to paint; it is my second home. Being there, surveying my work on the shelves, is like spending time in an alternate reality. My easel and paintbrushes, some of which I have had for about fifteen years, also bring fond memories of battles fought and won… well, mostly!

Adding everything together, this is why I make art.

Oh! I need to mention my little dog because she stays in my studio as I work. She even has her own armchair. All it takes is a scratch behind the ear, and she shows her appreciation of my painting with an enthusiastic tail wag.