Life, Painting. Art as Therapy? I wonder?

Something has shifted in my art practise. It’s influenced by what’s happening in my life I’m sure. Having for a few years ignored my daughters claims that I’m going deaf, I agreed to have a hearing test only to be told that she was right all the time! Unbelievable at first but thankfully I succumbed and now have a pair of very expensive but truly remarkable hearing aids. They’re almost invisible but make such a difference to my life. I now realise how much I’ve been missing out.

And it’s somehow had a calming effect on me. I feel more relaxed and more willing to slow down and make more considered decisions. This has a very good side effect on painting strangely. I’m really not bothered about rushing to produce a masterpiece but feel more satisfied with just experimenting endlessly and delighting on making even very slight discoveries and improvements.

This is a recent painting made after several sketching walks by the River Stour. I reworked it over a period of a week until I felt reasonably happy with it. Next I began two smaller paintings based on a walk in the Gloucester hills with Chris, Karen and Henry and 3 dogs in tow. The light was amazing.

This led to another two where I looked back at another walk at sunset with really strong red light on a puddly path through trees.

These two are very unfinished but hopefully I’m learning through the previous two, which again, are not quite there yet. It’s good to have several things growing along together as the work feeds into each painting and they form a conversation of light and water together. I’m content to work on this series for awhile and possibly to extend it with more images as I get closer to the memories of the walks.

It’s a good more meditative way of painting and I hope more mature and calm. Having been stuck for a while I have discovered that the only way to get unstuck is to just paint and then one thing leads naturally to another.

It’s been a difficult time. But at last I’m painting again…. it began with this funny little painting……

Just a very simple watercolour view. Having sat in my studio worrying how to begin I just drew and then painted precisely what was in front of me… totally within my comfort zone. It’s no good just waiting for inspiration or trying to force yourself to move on and aspire to create a masterpiece. It doesn’t happen like that.  Just doing something, anything can lead to a forward momentum. And it did. Today I went out walking with a small sketchbook in my pocket and just began to draw in the Water Meadows. And just as I used to make my students years ago teaching in a big comprehensive school each drawing got better than the last. Practise DOES make perfect. Well not perfect, but you can see slow improvement.

Now that I’ve edited my sketches and photos into some sort of order, I’m starting to think about how to use these as starting points to new paintings. I’ve always loved my sketchbooks but have got out of the ingrained habit of keeping them filled lately. It’s a small step forward but one I shall try to maintain along with blogging which also helps to reinforce my resolve to make art.

Sometimes wonder why Art can become Therapy. Maybe when people embark on, or are persuaded to try making art when they’ve never been involved in art making before, it might become therapy. After all, anything which distracts the brain from endlessly churning around a serious problem gives relief. But if art has always been your refuge from the world, the inability to loose yourself in what has been your comfort zone is devastating. Basically, that’s what has happened to me. I desperately want to loose myself in painting but I can’t. Guilt and a little fear invades me when I try. My mind is constantly running through other things which I feel need my attention more than the canvas in front of me and I have to give up and return to what has become the new reality. I see time left as a diminishing space. There are things I want to achieve; lots of places I want to visit.

Recently I did try hard for just one day to ignore the voices in my head which tell me  that I’m being selfish by pleasing myself. I painted for almost the entire day.

These two painting were the result. The man on the beach was actually a reworking which had begun to look too figurative. I was pleased with the looseness of this image.

Then went on to make a loose painting partly from memory of walking dogs with Chris,  Karen and Henry across hilltops in Gloucestershire. The setting sun lit up the view across towards the River Severn. It was beautiful. I wanted to capture the atmosphere. Applying thick paint and resisting the temptation to overwork and blend the colours too much I think I came close to my goal. Next I looked again at an older painting of sharp light filtering through tree trunks which reflected on water. I liked the high horizon in this composition and soon began a second wider version of this hoping to recapture the same feeling.

It’s got a long way to go but I’m hoping if I can find a moment to recreate the mindset which everyone keeps telling me….’think of and look after yourself  ‘I might manage a small step forward. But it remains to be seen if this is possible. Old behaviours and ways of reacting are ingrained deeply within us and when circumstances in life change it is incredibly difficult to learn new strategies and solutions.

Strange how  nothing significant seems to happen for years then suddenly one gets a non-stop flurry of life-changing experiences. During these explosive periods it becomes hard to hold on to core beliefs, ambitions and goals. I look back with mixed emotions to the last intensive art phase of my life during the university days from 2010 t0 2017 when I gained my BA then MA in fine art. Heady days filled with discussion as well as practical art practise. Such joy, such lovely new friendships forged. How I’d love to do that all again.

Those memories were brought back into sharp focus during the 3 days I spent in Edinburgh recently attending my granddaughters graduation in Art History and English. Her cohort of delightful friends generously including me in the lively celebrations and chat. I sometimes wonder which generation I fit into having such easy rapport with people from 18 to 90. People of all ages fascinate me.

The years from the dreadful Covid 2019 till 2024 have been flooded with hospital appointments, long periods of isolation, doubt and coming to terms with a new outlook on life. My husband and soulmate being diagnosed first with a serious heart condition and then in late 2022 the first symptoms of possible dementia, now confirmed. Its really quite mild so far but the possibility of escalation is always there.

It has taken me a long time to adjust to the changed person I share my life with. Onlookers assume that my art activities will sustain and nurture me. But this is far from the case. Art has taken a back seat. The amount of energy and patience needed to sustain two lives is phenomenal. There is a need to empathise, plan, prompt, worry, cope and of course love a person in that condition. It’s exhausting and leaves little energy or desire to make art.

But of course, Art will remain in the centre of my soul. It will find a return someday

Well I’m still not doing enough painting but dashed off this little memory of a residency at Brisons Veor in Cornwall. Anything to get going….but a strange colour palette for me. Oh well… I also dashed off a couple of A5 messy ink sketches, for a charity auction an artist friend is organising, and am exhibiting in a big charity show in my local town of Sudbury, Suffolk. It’s called Brushstrokes and is a great venture for recovering stroke patients. I haven’t made new work for this but hope that I can sell several older pieces at heavily reduced prices to clear spaces for new work.

Am very busy socially at the moment with impending visit of my lovely stepdaughters from Australia. Plus a silver wedding celebration in Gloucestershire of my son and daughter in law. How did that happen? Time just evaporates.

Maybe next month I will actually do some art? Here’s hoping.