by Patrick | Nov 2, 2020 | art, Environment, Op Art, painting, photography
“but many were small farms, still, in 1974, using shit pails in outside loos. Some of these were even two seaters, something I had only seen before in museums.” It seems that sewerage continues to play a part in my life here in Sussex. In the 1970’s it was part of my...
by Patrick | Oct 14, 2020 | art, art as language, drawing, Environment, Lifestyle, Op Art, painting, photography
Working the squares to explore colour and texture has unlocked a way forward for me. The drawings for the Harbour Wall painting were building on experimentation from the poppy series as I outlined in ‘Moving Forward’. Whilst I looked back thinking the analysis showed...
by Patrick | Sep 21, 2020 | art, art as language, drawing, Environment, oil, Op Art, painting, pastels, photography
Working through the ideas around the imagery of the lavender, I realised that the way I was approaching the colour and the way I was approaching the structure of the painting I was sliding into a second version of the border ‘Geranium’ painting from some years ago....
by Patrick | Sep 4, 2020 | art, art as language, drawing, Environment, Garden, oil, Op Art, painting, pastels, photography
The starting point for my paintings is always some piece of observation. Sometimes it is recorded photographically, on other occasions by drawing directly in the sketch book. Whatever the starting point I always progress through a series of works on paper exploring...
by Patrick | Apr 28, 2020 | art, art as language, Design, drawing, Environment, Op Art, painting, photography
The Sayings origins are lost in the mists of time. It was stated in various ways from the sixteenth century on. Shakespeare’s version is close to the modern: “Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye” from Love’s Labour’s Lost, 2.1. Possibly the first exact statement...
by Patrick | Apr 13, 2020 | art, art as language, drawing, Environment, Op Art, painting, photography, Travel, Uncategorized
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. Masefield 1902 Once...
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