The painting trip to Braidwood fed the painting habit a little more. Rosalie Gascoigne said that she was “visually hungry” and reading an article on David Hockney he got excited about drops in puddles.
I love colour – it’s what the landscape feeds me. For the past 3 years I have had this screen saver from a photo I took down there. It was the colour of this stagnant pond that drew me back.
From this trip it was the colour of the rocks – that dull fleshy pink. I did some small gouache works and know that these will in turn feed larger works and that from those initial colours, more colours develop.
“Paint does the thinking. If you’re lucky something completely unexpected comes out. The making is the thinking….” *
Monotremes are rare – both of them found in Australia. The platypus frequents still parts in rivers. There is a little spot in Braidwood where we go and the platypus makes an appearance. The old log where we sat and sketched had rotted since we were last there but as we approached the platypus took a dive and we caught a fleeting glimpse. It was midday, windy and noisy everything it shouldn’t be to spot platypus (or is platypussi?).
J.R Walker is a legendary Braidwood resident artist. As we came out of the bottleshop (a known haunt for artists – a bit like still rivers) J.R. was spotted on his bicycle and before we could gather our thoughts he was off. Peddling feverishly he ducked and dove out of sight. His saddle bags we could only guess were full of oily tubes of paint and inspiration and maybe merlot -it was on special.
This was a self-indulgent blog to show J.R. Walkers paintings. Something I have done before, here in Shaking Off The Sand & here in Artist or Serial Killer. He, like the platypus is elusive and wonderful. A strange creature of talent and mystery and spotted from time to time in Braidwood.
*quote in article by Steve Lopes for Artist Profile 2009.
Artists tend to collect odds and ends for no good reason. This morning’s trip to Vinnies to scour the used books resulted in another collection of absurdities as well as an old picnic basket, a wooden duck magnet and a genuine kangaroo skin bookmark.
At one stage I had a collection of little people that sort of began when one fell out of a second hand book about Bonnard at Braidwood. I was never quite sure whether they would be useful but when a burst of large fleshy fungi appeared in the garden it was time for them to come out and play their part. The old skulls also became an interesting backdrop.