oil on paper. 30x18cm
I wrote a piece a while ago entitled, Landscape doesn't go any where, and I was wrong because of course it is going somewhere all the time. It builds up and it gets ground down and it moves, often slowly , sometimes not.
We engineer it and given time it reclaims itself. It knows nothing of our endeavour and yet I still feel that we construct it mentally and emotionally no less so in painting which, in my case , is a landscape as metaphor in flux. I build it up and break it down. No painting is immune to my depredations. If they leave to go somewhere else then they are I suppose, inviable but if they stay with me then they are subject to change, not always for the better but that is the risk one takes.