Time and space melt away as the private conversation between my brush and the canvas begins…
The dialogue flows between my head, my heart and my had. It flows between letting go and pulling back until I realize things need some shaking up. And then it’s as though I throw myself at the canvas, stepping right into the painting with brush, palette knife and fingers.
Each blank canvas invites me into the realm of new possibilities. I love the sensation of squeezing a tube of colour and placing it on the palette. Of all the mediums, oil is my favourite—for it’s forgiveness, intensity and depth.
Once I place my colour on the palette, the dye is cast and there is no turning back. I dip my brush, or slide my palette knife, over that red, or that ochre, or that blue and feel a thrill as the landscape takes on a life of its own, pulling me along.
At times I know what road I am taking. Or I might veer onto a different path. Sometimes I never get there. But what calls me back to the easel is this place of not knowing what will happen next, where the painting mimics the very mystery of life itself.