2 July 2023
Ebb and Flow
This image from the other night came from a difficult sky made up of varying layers of assorted clouds. A cold front had rumbled through from the South bringing a winter chill to the afternoon and I was initially disheartened at having to face such a sky. But in the end though I worked through my fear and like what came out of it.
The sky was like a dog’s breakfast, as they say here in Australia. When I had arrived in the late afternoon, I found a thick stripe of lemon yellow squeezed in between two layers of purple clouds like a sandwich that quickly went to hell in a hand basket. But for a time, it was a wild ride and by the end I left the chilly beach in a good mood.
Like most sun-kissed afternoons on a tropical beach, both the sea and the sky can have a cool and friendly look of Prussian Blue, but at sunset it begins to make the switch towards the warmth of sunset and leans towards a Violet palette.
This can play around with a painter’s head because when I use too much Prussian Blue in the sea, I'll look up and suddenly realise that the sea is begging for more Ultramarine. Depending upon the sky it can dither like this for a while, back and forth, until the sky finally takes charge leaving the sea to meekly follow suit. OK, I think to myself, now the sea is Ultramarine Blue, until it’s not, because everything keeps changing all the time.
Unless one is a painter or an observant beachcomber, all this can be really confusing to explain, but honestly, it’s the most delicious part of Painting in front of nature. This banter in my head is a visual one, but it’s engaging like in a feisty courtship between young lovers; it’s “GO AWAY!” but then “COME BACK!” and this continual back and forth can make Painting so tormenting.
But, as always in this Painting game, a capricious picture like this puts even more technical demands upon me if I have to quickly throw one wet colour over another because I must first ‘marry’ them on the palette like I’m some sort of high priest or something. This marriage of colours is how they are harmonised later on the canvas.
Only at the end of a session does a picture need to have a climax when it must be wrapped up in a hurry. At least that’s how I felt with this picture the other evening. Of course, I'm often asked (by civilians): “Why don’t you just paint from a photograph or from memory?” “Why put yourself through all this emotion? Why all this melodrama?"
Difficult to express, but it’s the difference between seeing a photo of the person whom you desire, and dancing with them. Anyway, I’m not capable of painting a picture like this from memory, either in a studio, or anywhere else. I’ve never worked from photos though I know lots of people who do it. It’s a certainly a vastly different approach to painting. Everyone does it their own way because we’re all so different. But for me, with it's fluid rules and spontaneous touch, painting from nature is the most fun.
When I told a friend that I was writing this book, they asked me if I would ever consider using AI. I was baffled at the question and it seemed like an equally astounding thing to ask a painter who is writing about their own work. I’m an amateur writer, but one with a lot to recount, all of it so personal that it seems infathomable to imagine any ‘thing’ or person standing in for me in this adventure. I mean, don’t writers write to find out what they are feeling and thinking? Ditto, for a painter. But to be fair, some exercise these crafts expressly just to make money, which is not the same as what I’m trying to do. If there is no ‘human voice’ how can there be authenticity? And if one fakes the human voice, isn’t it still fake?
Understandably, if one were describing a science experiment, then sure, why not use AI. I have seen examples of AI writing superb school papers that fool everyone, but what is the motive if it’s to cheat your way through your education?
A long time ago back in New York, I was telling a friend about a woman I was seeing and some issues we were having when he stopped me and asked suddenly: “What’s your motive in this relationship?” Was it friendship? Companionship? sex? Are you looking for a wife?" I was dumbfounded by the question because no one had ever asked me such a thing in my whole life. Of course, I realised a little later that it may have been any one of these things, or all of them at once, because I always bite off more than I can chew.
This happened at a time when great changes were roiling my life so I took it to heart, and now, years later, I figure out my motive in any situation I'm facing.
So, my motives are clear in both this painting project and in the book I'm writing. In both, I'm only interested in how I learn more about what I’m seeing and what I’m thinking, and therefore, AI would never be an option for me. But none of all this did I tell my friend weeks ago when he broached the question. I couldn’t articulate any of this because in fact, I hadn’t yet written it down to understand it, and what I haven't yet written down, I rarely trust.
So, anyway, something as personal as painting or writing poetry doesn’t have a ‘hit counter’ that scores points like in the music business. And though it may seem something completely outside our current zeitgeist, I'd rather be authentic than rich and famous but that's my choice, and although I need money, I’m too shy for fame.
Anyway, whether or not AI will evolve well enough to supplant poetic spontaneity in the future will still not concern me because except for spell check and google searches, I don’t use it, nor will I in the future. Though down the road when my heart goes wonky, I'd be grateful for a Dr Robot.
Finally, because it always begins and ends with Turner for me, one only has to look at what he did in his small watercolour sketches to imagine the endless possibilities that are still available for any kind of painter today. I cannot imagine this could ever be reproduced by a computer because this interaction can only arise from a spontaneous combustion between a painter and a motif out in Nature. It’s the ebb and flow between two living organisms, humankind and mother nature.
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