Women on Bed, 77 x 57 cm
I’ve taken to drawing our cameras over the last fortnight – it’s good for my brain and nice to be doing something a little more freehand.
We have quite an large collection and I’m also making plans to draw and paint other objects I admire around our house. There’s the bulky type writer I recently bought – ugly but functional – the vintage kitchen cabinet I snatched up from Gumtree, then random pieces of crockery and tea cups. You get the idea. Lots of things.
I want to draw all the things.
I feel like I have been drawing this drawing forever. Which is utter nonsense because I only started it last week .. perhaps the week before.
But I’m at that point where even though I work and things get drawn and it’s evolving – I feel like it isn’t going anywhere.
Perhaps this is the danger of focusing all of my time on just one artwork. Maybe this is why I ( usually ) work on many artworks at once. Because if there is just one work then I think about that work. I think about it while I’m working on it, I think about it when I am packing up from working on it, I think about it at dinner time, I think about it while I’m showering, spending time with loved ones, changing a nappy. I think about it on trains and in cafés and I think about it while I am trying to sleep. Which is the worst because with no other outside influence I think about it in a hyper-realistic state. I note the textures, the way the ink takes hold of the paper, the layers – I feel myself drawing it.
So then I am doing all of this thinking and feeling and it’s taken up so much of me it almost feels like it is going to implode. There’s too much and when there’s so much information and feelings it’s almost like I’ve experienced this artwork completely and then I think, well, I don’t have to finish it. Because I’m kind of lost to it and what’s the point anyway.
So this is the point I photograph and upload it onto this blog to say look, I’m making things and something is happening – even if my tired brain, eyes and hands tell me otherwise.