Contemplating a painting constitutes a pause from daily life , an external and an internal pause: the making of the painting is in itself part of daily life . In this painting the subject matter which I think of as having derived from the act of walking is frozen, a moment in time which has given rise to an action which has resulted in an object for contemplation and in fact, in contemplating this painting I know that it will prompt me to look again and change what I have done.
I read a poem by Derek Hyatt:
It is the space that matters most.
The line opens the space between objects. The line moves; the frozen objects change, melt.
The line is life and an image of time cutting space.
The line can be moved
there -
more visible than the trees, clouds and walls.
The line celebrates the mind moving across the
landscape.
The line is the birds flight through the tree, cross the hillside and up to the invisible ledge
of the cumulus cloud.
Follow me, cries the line
Draw into me, cries the blue
Slice me in two, cries the yellow
Criss-cross my surface, cries the red
Bind us together, cries the lover.
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