In the darkness in storage, maybe a few night scurrying visitors.But I was determined to rid myself of them so over the last month I have been emptying the shed.
After countless trips, rips and tears I can now see the back wall and it’s empty. Well almost….just the few odd boxes of pointless paperwork and paintings too big for the wagon. I’m still unsure of their fate.
Apart from the endless self-pitying I have had moments of surprise for lost friends and the occasional shame. What was I thinking? I guess artists all go through it. The trial and error. But in amongst the canvassed oily years I found diaries. Records where I was learning to paint. I was obsessive then as I am now, I guess that’s why I blog. I kept a record of each day at art school and photos of the work produced apart from my sketchbooks I have since got rid of the majority of that work but it was fascinating to read the enthusiasm for new-found techniques and mediums. Maybe the fodder for a new blog if I can wear the embarrassment.
Then after picking the stretchers clean, posting the photos and blogging my blubbering I had the thought that these images of the storage shed, the oranges and rusts of the bricks and deep grey shadows along with the signage would make a great series of paintings. Mmm, wonder what I would do with them after? I can see a vicious circle appearing.