Playing with scale and not planning

The 'Pushmi-Pullyu Panels' were an experiment in scale and a change of substrate. The materiality of the heavy canvas groundsheets imposed their weight but they did not absorb the paint so well. I thoroughly enjoyed making these large works during Covid lockdown. The sheer size, physicality and experimentation gave me a great sense of freedom in a time of confinement and isolation. I used all sorts of weird and wonderful tools to apply paint. I wrapped rags around my feet so I could dance the paint into the canvas and fashioned long, strange brushes from broken tree branches. I also stepped into graphic recording territory and added a sense of fun to 'Pullyu' which is about magnetic energy fields.

Over the past 7 years I have developed a niche business as a self employed graphic recorder. I draw meetings, workshops and conferences under the trading name of Drawn Together. Sometimes this is done in real time, adding a performance element to the mix. Mostly the drawings are about communicating complexity in a visual way rather than being works of art. It is a practice that embraces improvisation and synthesis. It was my way to bring more creativity into earning a living. I listen deeply, think fast and draw quickly. People always remember more when they can absorb information visually. Until now I have kept that work quite separate from painting. The 'Pushmi-Pullyu Panels' mark a mingling of the two creative areas of my life.

I had plans to continue down the path of large-scale painted groundsheets referencing magnetic and diamagnetic earth energies. I could imagine the painterly impact of 6 panels hanging together - an embrace of scale and energy. A goal oriented plan for my end of year final assessment in 2022.

Over the holidays I have reconsidered this idea. My new approach is NOT TO PLAN, so I have let that go. By producing more work without goals I will open myself up to the chance of new and strange ideas that could bubble up from my subconscious. Experimentation over outcomes.

This approach should also produce a broader selection of work to choose from, and importantly, take the pressure off trying to produce a 'finished' show. This is a big issue for me - being trained as a lawyer means I have been taught to dot the 'i's' and cross the 't's'. And always, always, deliver. Perfectionism is at the heart of this and lurking beneath that is ego and the inner critic. My self esteem is linked to over-delivering, being super conscientious and honouring commitments. I do, however, know failure very well. It has taught me more than perfectionism. Without failure it is impossible to grow.

In my business life I am a proponent of 'Design Thinking' and the use of rapid prototyping and failing fast. I'm also comfortable with uncertainty and ambiguity - an essential skill for effective problem solving and developing sound policy.

Provisionality is a concept I chase in my painting practice, but rarely achieve. It's now time to bring in more of the 'failing fast' and 'rapid prototyping' I use in business into my art practice. By not being so 'finished' it makes room for others to bring their own readings and interpretations to the work. Show and tell becomes show and suggest.

A way to open up is to develop my sketchbook practice. I've always kept sketchbooks, but never seen it as a practice in itself. Over the holidays I have been developing a daily practice of painting and drawing in an A4 sketchbook with gouache, ink, charcoal, pencils and pastels. The joy of playing in my own private laboratory has sparked something in me. I'm beginning to uncover my own visual vocabulary and motifs and several of the sketches are looser. They have a sense of provisionality about them. It's a start.

"It feels good to believe you have high standards. It feels good to believe you have good taste. It feels good to believe that you won't sacrifice your dignity by doing sub-par work.

But often times, perfectionism is what keeps us from getting started. As our ego cradles us in the warm blanket of our high standards, days and years melt by. We get ever closer to dying with our art still inside us." (1)

On reflection, and considering the feedback from the end of year assessment panel, I have decided to return to working with the rock stock paper. It poses its own set of challenges but I enjoy the velvety, milky mat and absorbant qualities it has. Limestone is central to my investigations and rock stock is made from crushed calcium carbonate making it materially relevant.

(1) Kadavy, D. (2018). The heart to start: Win the Inner War & Let Your Art Shine. Kadavy Inc.