Do I really like line, paint, and want things to look nice? I put that in front of me to see how I felt about it.
This painting tests the question. Its single pink line is mixed from the base blue-grey and Cadmium Red. I was surprised at how the blue-grey felt to me, having weight which gave substance to the surface. It had a ‘heavy’ look. The pink line I wanted to be tonally close to the blue-grey. It would be about a centimetre wide, and placed where it felt right. But when I painted it initially narrow and looked at it, it stared back at me, defied me to do more; defiance in its straightness and intimidation in its colour. The effect of the pink on the blue-grey surprised me. I noted a visual change in the smaller portion of blue, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but did, the power of the pink line somehow disproportionate. I cannot touch it again. I like it? I have stretched some more canvases for a series to take the line further down the road. I feel that they should be wordless, like the pink line, something with which to be. There is no need to like it. It satisfies something.
