Coming to Light

Living as an artist I have come to realise that making art is a way of life and everything revolves around my 'job'. It has changed the way I see and think. I used to believe I had 'hobbies', but even these feed into my creativity. My garden, my walks, my sewing, my reading....

Each time I put aside a concentrated period of time to 'play' new realisations come to the surface. For me, it's a slow burn. Things I did 5 or 10 or maybe 40 years ago are revealed in what I am doing now. Our experiences, intentional or otherwise, are part of our art. Our personalities, our preferences come to 'play' with us. I come to this play with intentions, whether I realise it or not.

​I'm aware that I am thinking more about the environment the wildlife inhabits. 

I was less aware that I am beginning to think colour.

In January I joined Richard Heys and Alex McIntyre in their inspiring "Coming to Light" workshop, coming away with 3 key building blocks:

• colour can be soft and subtle - I seemed to spend the whole weekend mixing variations of grey. 
• 'reading' a painting is a complex thing but 'looking for the light' can open up an artwork in unexpected ways.
• I didn't have to 'like' what I produced (but having said that I haven't shared them all here!)

This weekend at their second joint workshop, I expected to continue my journey of greys with gentle shifts into mauves and blues. However the studio at Emerson College was surrounded in green. Every window an envelope of light and shadow, shape and silhouette, glints of every shade of green bringing memories of a walk in the temple of ancient woodland at Marline Valley and the summery grasses at Heather Wood. 

With Alex, Richard and the other artists in the room and Louise Fletcher (Find Your Joy) sitting on my shoulder I selected a limited palette and spent the weekend playing with green, pausing only at the end of each day to review and reflect on the developments. Intentional versus accidental marks. Finding the light. Exploring the view and unconsciously plundering memories.

These pieces were created by window cropping from a larger sheet - a technique for 'finding' compositions which can be further developed. This felt constricted and encouraged me to work more freely on lots of small pieces at once, gently feeling my way:

I realised that

• the quality of the surface was important to me
• I am trying to capture the feeling of being 'in' the landscape rather than a view 'of' the landscape

Out of context and scale this blog post may not make sense to you. Making art is a series of learning experiences and lots of practice, with occasional lightbulb moments. Over the last 5 years I have taken a number of online and in person courses building skills in composition, colour and markmaking. (Nik Pollard, Chris Wallbank, Sally Hirst, Samuel Herbert, Louise Fletcher, amongst others gleaned from the internet and books). Each provides a building block for the next and if I am lucky they will coalesce into an exciting new direction for my work. I rarely share this part of my practice.

These are not finished pieces but mark a beginning for a new way of thinking, a natural progression from working outside. We never stop learning.

Independantly and collectively Alex and Richard are expert tutors and bring insightful presence into an artist practice. I highly recommend attending their courses or simply enjoy their artworks.

Richard Heys

Alex McIntyre

Surrender to the Rhythms >