The mysterious process of creation

Yesterday was one of those days when everything just clicks in to place. The Fountains Abbey painting went racing towards possible completion. When this happens it is almost as though the painting is painting itself - as though I have no say in what happens; and the elation at the end of the day.....! Today is calmer and more considered and it will take some time - days or even weeks - before I have decided whether the painting is, in fact, 'finished'.

It has spent much of its time since I began it leaning against a wall in the studio, but every minute of this time was essential in the process of bringing it towards completion - I've looked at it upside down, on its side, through a mirror, in the mind's eye and in all different lights and it has been a long struggle. Of course if it weren't a stuggle, if I knew what was going to happen and how, then I wouldn't bother putting brush to canvas in the first place, there would be no point.

Can You See What It Is Yet?

It has been a busy day in the studio: Kate's picture is probably finished, the big Fountains picture has come on a bit and I've continued with the Brown Trout picture started yesterday. The gallery smells thickly of linseed oil and pure turpentine and I feel I deserve dinner out tonight complete with the odd glass of wine "Ooo hark at him - the odd glass - that'll be eleven then"!

.....Wood for the trees

So there I am: David Stead in David Stead Gallery, standing behind my easel wearing overalls covered in paint, holding several brushes and palette knives. In walks a 17 year old wearing grammar school uniform and the studiedly ruffled hair and vowels of a young Boris J. He wanders about the gallery a bit and then:

“Is this Steed artist a local one?”

“Yes”

“Hmm, Where’s he from?”

I can’t help a look down at my overalls at this point
“Er……Ripon”

“Ah, well I quite like these animal things they’re very simple aren’t they but really quite attractive”.

Getting Colder!

And more arboreal