I’ve come to the realisation that I cannot continue to paint as I have in the past. The storage crisis worsened by a visit to the lock-up. As usual I lift the roller door and sigh. I can’t throw them out and I can’t live with them so they are in this perpetual state of no-wall land. In the past year I have scaled it down to drawing but shopping with Carla for oil paint yesterday made me aware that I haven’t shaken the habit.
Do I continue to produce small unobtrusive sketches?, do I drag them into the daylight one by one and put them to trial? Are they worthy of storage? Do I need to whore myself and paint only what would sell? What art sells anyway – dolphins, fairies or pelicans. Maybe I can combine all three and corner the market and build storage units for despondant, unsuccessful artisits.
