Getting some Perspective

I’ve been busy for the last few weeks, doing lots of writing and not very much painting. I’ve been involved in a poetry workshop for over a year now and it’s been great. Writing has slipped into my life so quietly and unexpectedly that I find myself wondering what I did with my time before the workshops. Possibly more painting but life is always a juggling act – for me it’s a question of balance and trying to find just enough time for everything to keep some kind of equilibrium.

At the moment I am writing a business plan for our gallery as we are hoping to develop what we are doing in a new direction. It’s a different kind of writing of course but it is also exciting and I hope that I will be able to share more about that in a few months time.

For now I am going to talk about this painting. I came across it recently while sorting through my desk. I remember working on it about six months ago and leaving it aside as I was unsure whether or not it was finished. Clearly some part of me believed it was not, as it lay quietly unnoticed for all this time. When I found it, I wondered why, because it does seem finished to me now! There are blocks of colour on the right – the pink and green that might seem flat and unresolved compared to the more subtly applied colour to the left, but this gives the piece interest and balance which is something easily lost if the whole surface is treated in the same way.
The negatives seem outweighed by the positives  – there is atmosphere, something moody around that hazy purple, the way the light diffuses in the distance and those stripes of red, pink and green do work even though they are incongruous with the rest of the piece.

 

Purple Hill

 

 

 

It reminds me how useful and important it is to take some perspective on a painting  – a little distance and time have allowed me to see the piece as if for the first time, so it is easier to make a judgement.

I realise how true this is of writing and yes, so many other aspects in life – it has just taken six months and an old painting to help me remember.

by Deborah Watkins