Hands a little damp and cold after washing my brushes. A couple of hours of painting and five pieces have been moved forward. Well, moved somewhere. The smallest work needs a black corner changed to a blue and that may be enough. One of the square panels, is looking pretty ugly and I’m unsure as to where it’s going. There are great details in it, which I’ll no doubt have to lose before the work is finished. The third piece, another square panel, feels slower and probably needs to be worked in such a way. A smaller panel lies flat, the thin paint drying. It’s still got some way to go. As for the fifth panel I’m tempted to paint most of it a flat mid grey – well, as flat as the underlying textures will allow. Right now much of what I’m working on feels uncertain and up in the air, so I’ve got to trust the process.

That thing where I make a painting, almost out of nowhere, right at the end of a painting session and it feels good. Complete even.

Will it survive the night?

Under fresh (or not so fresh) morning scrutiny it may wither, its thinness revealed in the bright light of a new day. Or perhaps it will stand its ground, remain strong and make it into an exhibition.

At the risk of tempting fate, I’m feeling this one, with a little more work, is about to come together… or fall totally apart!

I’m reminded of a detail in a David Salle painting – an African or Cubist sculpture realistically rendered, possibly a painting within a painting. Quite how reliable my memory is I can’t be sure. A look online retrieves many David Salle paintings, but not the one in my minds eye.

On my foundation course, the painting constructions I was making would go through several changes across a day. Wax would be added here, something scraped off there – nothing was sacred or precious and everything was new and unknown.

It’s this playful curiosity I’m seeking to rediscover while making this new body of work. The above image is the result of placing a painting on top of a photocopier and hitting print.

Image from scanning a new painting on a flat bed scanner. Acrylic on an eight dollar, 6 × 8 inch, store-bought canvas and currently without a title.