The Edge of Reach

The edge of my reach

The arc of my arm
Scale is important because of the physical scope of my movement
A recording of reach and not reach
Pain and not pain
Sleep and not sleep
Sex and not sex
Death and near death
And Love.
Visceral and evanescent…. both.
The child-like blow lines… breath beyond myself… influence beyond the edges of myself
Paint blown and captured cells drawn
The arc of arm and the stretch of body is a good enough reason to work large.
But my world is shrinking, my reach restricted, and diminished…. so I reach it while I can. Tomorrow it may be less.
I had an evening at our studios last night doing a workshop led by Sarah Goudie on Spatial Drawing (there will be more).
During this time, without need for critique, internal or external, and nothing but my body, the supplied materials and paper, I had no choices but my mark making choices.
During this comparatively short time I joined some dots between myself and my work.
During this time, with these people I saw the sweep of my life from my childhood to my future and was able to plot a few whys.
It’s hard to explain to people who haven’t experienced this sort of thing how being on your own with a piece of paper and a few sticks of charcoal for a couple of hours can achieve this, but it does.
If you let it.
I go back into my private space today and look at the piece I started yesterday and make the judgements I tried to avoid last night. But the marks I make will I think be affected.
There’s a nonsense floating about that abstraction in my drawing is instinctive but of course it is not… not really… I’ve got 57 years of drawing behind me… those things that might appear instinctive are honed by knowledge, experience, trust…
I’ve worked hard for decades so that it can look easy.
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