The current form of my paintings enables more of a dance-like engagement. Whilst I cannot divorce myself entirely from ‘meaning’, I’m now not so burdened by ‘trying’ to paint something ‘meaningful’.
There’s a momentum to the current work (having been exploring this approach* consistently for the last five years).
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*The approach being: Painting with my non-dominant left hand in a ‘free-form’ manner, devoid of ‘shape’. Yes, circa 14 years ago there were ‘shapes’ residing adjacent to each other over a background colour. These then segued into four ‘ovoids’ occupying the quadrants of the canvas (top left, right, bottom left, right).
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And such momentum has a life of it’s own. I don’t know where it’s going (and don’t want to know). However, there is some dexterity and depth to the process (like perfecting any craft). AND, there’s ongoing fumblings and messinesses.
There are ‘aesthetic preferentials’ in the work which seems to be tethered to ‘me’ in the same way we each find ourselves with particular personalities. For instance I strongly dislike clumsy, frumpy gestures in the brushwork or the configuration of colours and shapes which lack ‘tension’.
At the end of the day, is there any meaning in my paintings? I don’t know. They exist for their own sake. I do need them to provide some enjoyment for me (and hopefully a few other peeps). Part of the enjoyment is seeing something in the work that’s greater than anything I could consciously concoct.