Why does a painter, paint another painting?

Because he can not, not! 

Sometimes I am as overwhelmed by artworks I see, as excited by their beauty. It can make me wonder who am I to try? But who am I to not? 

It has taken me a while to see other artists artwork without questioning my own. It is amazing to sit in tears in front of an artwork and truly feel it. I have had that experience a couple of times in front of a number of Mark Rothko paintings, when I first saw 'Abraham' by Barnett Newman and in front of Ad Reinhardt's 'The Black Cross' painting. It made me feel at once inspired and flooded with feeling of connection and at the same time question the possibility of ever painting something so majestic myself.

I still have that feeling sometimes, but I have come to realise, for me, painting is the act in which I receive my nourishment and joy. The release is more important than whether an idea works out well or not. The layers vary in apparent success and don't truly 'make sense' until the final few layers. There is more going on than intentional build. There are lessons about trusting and gesture, choice and execution.

The moment you commit brush to actual canvas and allow the flow of directive is in itself, the reason to paint. It is for me anyway. It is such a high when you feel it and can see it coming together in the same way. It is exciting when things reveal themselves to you along the way. Idea's that when followed lead to outcomes you didn't know to predict, just happened upon them and recognised their worth.

I love how the layers all stitch together. Hence the Title of the new Series: The Weave.