Repetition
The evenings here have grown noticeably cooler, and the light is fading earlier each day—a sign that winter is on its way. I’m already looking forward to frosty mornings and the quiet beauty of snow. This time of year is my favourite; it brings with it a certain stillness that invites reflection on what’s been happening.
Do the changing seasons inspire a sense of reflection for you as well?
I’ve been thinking about the role of repetition in painting. Over time, painting has become more than a creative outlet for me—it feels like a form of prayer.
My studio has become a space where I can connect with something larger than myself.
Lately, I’ve been revisiting Existentialists and Mystics by Iris Murdoch. I’ve explored these themes before, but the challenges of the past year and the natural process of aging have prompted me to return to these ideas, seeking to refresh and reconnect with philosophies that have deeply resonated with me in the past.
Honouring Invisible Forces
It’s an interesting read, and as I paint, I find myself honouring the unseen forces that interweave our lives—those subtle energies that connect us all. The canvas becomes a medium through which I explore these invisible threads, letting them guide my work.
This exploration isn’t just about creating art; it’s about understanding and reflecting on the profound connections that bind us as human beings.
The Ritual of Repetition
There is a rhythm to the way I paint—a repetition that is both necessary and revealing. This repetitive process has a ritualistic quality, allowing me to sift through the noise of the outside world and tune into the deeper, quieter frequencies of existence. It’s in this rhythm that I find clarity and purpose, mirroring the natural ebb and flow of life itself.
Working outside is also part of my process. I love the sound of the stream, the wind in the leaves, and the birds.
It’s very grounding and freeing.
The Meditative Nature of Oil Paint
Working with oil paint has further deepened this meditative approach. The extended drying times of oil require patience, allowing the painting to evolve gradually. This slow process forces me to slow, to reflect, adjust, and engage with the piece on a deeper level.
The intervals between each layer of paint are moments of contemplation, where I can reconnect with the intentions behind my work and make considered decisions about progress.
Balancing Chaos and Structure
Every piece of art is a dance between chaos and structure. In my work, I find myself constantly navigating these two forces—embracing the unpredictability of the paint in free-fall while also imposing a sense of order to bring the piece into balance.
This is where the magic happens for me, where the raw, untamed energy of chaos meets the deliberate, thoughtful hand of structure.
It’s a delicate equilibrium that mirrors life itself.