they call me the Thursday Painter

[THURSDAY 16 JULY 2009]
Yes it is Thursday. Yes I am here. As far as I can tell there hasn’t been a massive disturbance in the space-time continuum; black holes haven’t imploded and sucked in the stars and planets of the solar system; this isn’t some groundhog day, stuck on repeat, déjà-vu scenario. I have just chosen to spend an extra day here in this increasingly filthy, eternally pokey, loft-cum-studio.

What has occurred since yesterday is a crisis of confidence. All that hard werk I did has been firmly punched in the nose this morning and it’s left me reeling, dizzy and sick. I think I’d better go and have a cup of tea…

I don’t really have much choice but to press on, I got as far as ‘I THINK OF’ last night, so I need to finish adding glow to the rest of the words. Then we’ll see where we are after that…

I’ve added the slightest hint of a shadow in places to suggest 3-Dimensionality… Hauled the behemoth canvas outside, noted where it needs extra glow emphasis… hauled it back up through the hatch… Time for lunch.

Looking back: yesterday was pretty intense, no wonder my brain feels a bit frazzled today. I’ve done a bit more werk on those top-secret things. And then went back to add that extra glow emphasis to ‘…Smile’. Not much time to do anything else except clean up and ship out.

not time for hunny

[WEDNESDAY 15 JULY 2009]
I am on a pretty tight schedule with these top-secret paintings, so I have spent the entire morning werking with acrylic, diligently painting over the numerals, layer upon layer, over and over, again and again. I have lost count of the number of passes, somewhere around 7 or 8.

The joy of acrylic is that it dries so quickly. I have a special makeshift palette for acrylic paint (another tool of the artist):

[Sadly it is not yet time for hunny.]

I’d like to say that I never signed up for this obsessive, fine detail werk when I decided again to play the role of “the artist”. However, such behaviour remains with me since those art school days, when I would take a simple, usually repetitive, idea to fanatical lengths. Mostly I liked the idea of systems and the production-line ethic…

If only I had the patience and temperament to fulfil these intense lines of werk. Truth is I can be a testy little bugger and every so often I have to pull away and take a deep breath before I scream or my hand has a spasm and draws a violent, unhinged line across all that hard werk. Right now is one of those times. STEP AWAY FROM THE CANVAS. As soon as my hands are steady again I’ll turn back and continue.

Only now I’ve lost track of which numeral I had got to. The problem with acrylic is that it dries so quickly… Looks like I might as well werk from the start on this one.

It seems to happen when I get to the fourth character: I have a tendency to hold my breath whilst I werk, and it reaches a crux point, where I have to turn away, exhale and give my poor, fidgety eyes a break. Oh woe is me: the tortured artist.

ENOUGH. I paint over that number nine for the last time.

We’ve moved onto a layer of oil paint: Titanium white with a hint of lemon yellow. This is quickly smudged outwards to create the subtlest of glows. It is the first step of many steps on the third stage of the painting. (stage 1: creating a ground to werk on; stage 2: filling in and building up the numbers; stage 3: making it glow.) We have a long way to go, and not much time.

5.40pm. Time for a little pick me up: My slapdash version of a Pastis - a splash of Anis in a plastic cup of water – it tastes pretty good considering.

8.12pm. Yes I’m still here. Took half an hour break around 6pm, drank coffee, came back ready for more werk. Have been buzzed by a wasp and seen the biggest spider. Got to get on, there’s painting to be done.

8.30pm. I think we can call it a day now, a proper days werk under my belt.
[For the record, I started at 10am.]

top secret

[WEDNESDAY 08 JULY 2009]
Wednesday Painter reporting in at 2.41pm: I have been werking away on three top secret paintings. Choosing fonts; drafting them onto canvas; filling them in; masking them off; painting in the surrounding negative space…

And most of this whilst on my knees.

I give the old knees a break and stand up at the “rock face” for a while. I am *almost* pleased with where it’s got to. Not long now.





Back on the top secret werks: I spend some happy moments scuzzing 2 of them up, painting roughly over, then knocking back; pouring white spirit down them, then water, then more paint. I finish with a faint layer of white acrylic to knock everything back. My hands finally look more like I’ve done a good days werk. But it’s not over yet…

More oil paint - a dirty, diluted grey - brushed on, then wiped off straight away. Followed by a wash of watered-down white acrylic: wipe it down and stand back.



My werk here is done for now.

a broken vow

[WEDNESDAY 01 JULY 2009]
The loft is pretty humid today, stifling, still air, and a real lack of oxygen. Keep getting really short of breath. I’ve been drinking plenty of water, but that’s just making me need the toilet every half an hour. Excuse me: duty calls…

At present I am werking on ‘…Smile’. It calls for more glow, and I dutifully respond.

Post-lunch: God it’s even hotter in here. I’ve switched off the main light, and I’m werking by daylight lamp. The crow has been given a bit more definition.

Now, I know I vowed that I wouldn’t start any new paintings until some of the current ones were completed, but I’ve had to break that vow. I’ve just begun a set of three commemorative date pieces. I’m just building up a ground on two of them, before I add the numbers.

I think the heat is starting to affect the computer. Every word I type takes about 30 seconds to appear on screen. Lucky for me (and the Mac) I have an engagement with Big Star and the Tindersticks tonight, which means I need to leave early. So off I go…

green fingers and a head full of cotton wool

[WEDNESDAY 24 JUNE 2009]
There’s a crow perched on a deep red strip of neon, you can just about trace its sinister outline silhouetted against the dark, foreboding sky. This subject has occupied an industrious hour or so. My view at this stage is that I may need to study the form of the crow a bit more, in order to better capture its character. However this would involve either waiting around in the garden until a crow presented itself, or searching on the interweb for source material. Both of which could take me away from the studio for hours on end. I will take the crow outside and consider it over a cup of tea.

It’s a blustery day out there. The pollen’s getting whipped up off the fields and my hayfever has flared up – cue ten minute sneezing fit.

Not sure what to werk on next. Two paintings are in quarantine, out of sight, in the hope that they will be ready to be unveiled to the public soon; Three paintings are on a fallow week after being werked on last week; Two have been werked on this morning, so they’re being rested for now. Which leaves me with only a couple of options. I should probably stop thinking and just get on with it.

Trouble is none of the canvases I could werk on are getting me particularly fired up, and I’ve set myself a firm rule that I won’t start anything new until I’ve finished some of the 11 or so that I’ve got on the go.

It is 12.29pm. I have cleaned all the brushes I’ve used this morning. I will take a lunch break and hopefully things will be clearer with some food in my belly.

3 o’clock on the dot. I have green fingers, and there’s green neon light glowing fresh and wet on canvas. I have a nagging ache in one of my teeth, having got a bit of foodstuff caught in it during lunch. My eyes are watering, nose is streaming, and there’s an unbearable itch at the back of my throat. I sneeze again... and again… and again... None of this is making it any easier.

For some reason the Pod of i has chosen to play Hotel Blôedel by The Fall every week for the past 4 or 5 weeks. I skipped it last week, because I was fed up with it. I will let it play out this time. But it has been noted.

I’ve done a little werk on the “rock face”, but my head feels like it’s full of cotton wool, and my nose like it’s on fire. I’ve made it through ‘til 10 past 5, I reckon I might just finish up and go inside.

A Eureka! moment

[WEDNESDAY 17 JUNE 2009]
My morning has involved two things: Procrastination and close-up brush-werk.

I lost an hour and 20 minutes somewhere in the internet. I only stopped to check what some crap I’d been flogging on EBay had sold for. Got sucked in and paid the price. I’ll never get those precious minutes back. (Though I did sell a nasty, oversized 70’s shirt for 12 quid, so it’s not all bad!)

Before that, I had been patiently werking away filling in those letters again on ‘I Think of You and I Smile’. I mixed a gentle Titanium White with a smidgen of Lemon Yellow, and commenced with the task that is something akin to sign-writing. The next step, post procrastination, was to blend out this wet layer, to produce a serene and subtle glow. It has worked to a degree.

I shall take lunch and give my eyes a break.

Refreshed and fed, I will leave ‘I Think of You…’ for now, so that I can plan my next move. I’m in a white neon mood, so ‘SSSHH’ is up on the easel. It doesn’t quite yet have that effervescent quality I’m seeking, and I don’t think it is within my grasp today. On to the next canvas…

And once again you find me at the rock-face, forming a hair-line crack and rendering a deep magenta glow. Just lying on the floor surveying my werk. A Eureka! moment. I need to add in an extra section of “rock” to bring the composition together.

It is time to leave the rock-face, to pack away my tools, and head for home.

Neon Painting: Paths of Least Resistance

The Path of Least Resistance 1 (blue), 2008, oil on canvas, 40cm x 50cm.

The Path of Least Resistance 2 (red), 2008, oil on canvas, 40cm x 50cm.

A few words about the artwerks:
Neon lights in oil paint, tracing a path of least resistance...

The images could be perceived as:

1. A hairline crack or ruptured fault-line, a sinister glow leaking out.

2. A river channel meandering across the topography.

3. A phosphorescent liquid seaps through the darkness.

4. An electric current surges and strikes out.

You can view and buy these and more of my artwerks, commission free at Saatchi-Gallery/yourgallery and artists.de

An almighty crack

[WEDNESDAY 10 JUNE 2009]
I power-up the trusty old Mac, it is midday, and I have been a-painting. This new regime of not switching the computer on first thing seems to be a success. It forces me to knuckle down to werk with the paintbrush, rather than pontificating to myself and spewing forth each and every thought on to this computer screen.

It’s been lashing down with rain all morning, but it’s finally stopped – so I shall take this opportunity to adjourn for lunch.

Some post-lunch werk on SPQR and I take the decision to put it aside to rest. I will go back to it in a couple of weeks and then I will know if it is finished. I have also put away another small, untitled, pink neon piece. The feeling is good. Again I must refrain from taking photographs, which I fear may sap the life out of the originals… I would also spend too much time poring over them and finding faults. No, they need to be kept out of sight so that I can see them with fresh eyes in a few weeks.

My knees just let out an almighty crack in protestation at my crouching down for too long. I have been werking on the fourth canvas of the day, and I feel another will be up on the easel before long. This one has sat untouched for so long I have had to brush off a layer of dust and fluff.

Rather than embarking on something else, I’ll use the remaining time to give some brushes a much-needed deep clean. Oh, the drama!

Meanwhile, at the rock-face...

[WEDNESDAY 03 JUNE 2009]
Half-an-hour late opening up, powered up the sound-system and commenced werk – painting over those white neon letters again, building them up to a brilliant white.

This kept me occupied right through ‘til 11.30, when I took a break and took SPQR out into the daylight. I was quite pleased with what I saw. The neon sings out, and the purple glows a luxurious intense violet. Just a few areas that need the lightest of werk and it should be finished. Yes, you read that word right FINISHED.

And I have only just switched this old computer on, to make my first entry. It is 12 noon.

Another hour of whiting-out, now lunch.

And back again. Bringing more darkness in, black oil paint all over my grubby mitts. Maybe I should go back to werk on the rock-face…

You find me at the rock-face, chiselling away, rendering 3-D physicality around pink neon.


And on to the next one – more darkness and more pink neon.

And finally, some blacking out of peripheral edges…

And relax.

the BLACK-EST of BLACK

[WEDNESDAY 27 MAY 2009]
The last 45 minutes were almost a joy, my painting was carefree and purposeful, the gnawing in my gut faded to the background, and SPQR took a pleasing leap towards completion (no photos yet though, I’d only pick holes in it.)

I resolved, when I arrived, not to turn the computer on just to see how much I could get done.It seems a good decision, I didn’t have the urge to report every thought I had, and every movement I made.This has reaffirmed my suspicions that having the internet in here would be a calamitous development.

Right, back to werk.

It would appear I may have been a tad rash when I admonished Lamp Black in favour of Ivory Black a few weeks ago.  Lamp Black does have a place in my palate. Ivory Black has a tendency to dry grey-ish and murky (must be the charred bones they put in it). I want the BLACK-EST of BLACKS. I want clarity of colour fading to darkness. Welcome back Lamp Black. 

So it goes on: knocking back colour and bringing in the darkness. Uninhibited brush-strokes, a feeling of goodness… just werking away without any over-complicating thought process. This is how it should be, a natural, easy, stress-free operation. And I’ve worn down this brush by a good few millimetres as proof of my hard werk. 

It’s felt damp all day, but there’s suddenly a real chill in the air. Maybe it’s the Tindersticks on the Pod of i, maybe it’s because I’ve paused for a moment’s consideration, maybe it’s just the wet English summer creeping up the ladder to make itself felt. 

Today I have made real progress. Today was not a chore. Today was a turning point.

Procrastinations of a Wednesday Painter

[WEDNESDAY 20 MAY 2009]
I often think I should have named this blog ‘Procrastinations of a Wednesday Painter’. I find myself more and more prone to extended bouts of it. I wake up each Wednesday, and idle in bed later and later. And when I finally arrive at “the studio” it takes me longer and longer to get started. I feel like every time I come back I start back at zero, as if the progression of the previous week has been wiped off the slate, and I need to re-learn and re-do, taking those first tentative steps again and again. It’s a confidence thing, by the end of the day I will be taking bold leaps and making bold decisions. But right now I’m timid and unsure.

I just took SPQR outside to check progress in natural light. Of course, you don’t really need to know that. (I don’t even find it peculiar anymore that I am addressing this to an audience that, as far as I know, does not exist. Is anybody there?)

Anyway, I digress, SPQR will be rested for a week, and then I will knock back some of the glow and let in the darkness. But what to werk on this week?

Just had a tea break which developed into another bout of procrastination – Sat down with a guitar and strummed away on some half-finished songs. At least it was creative procrastination, I suppose.

I am now trying to figure out the next step towards the perfect white neon glow.

You join me in the post-lunch lull. Werk has come to a complete standstill. I have too many options and not enough bravado. There are at least 5 canvases crying out to be taken in hand and led towards completion. And me? I’m paralysed. I can talk about it, analyse it, chastise myself for it, but I can’t find it in myself to act. I could take another breather, or I could take the bull by the horns…

I’ve not exactly risked a goring, but I have done a bit of werk. I propped a canvas on the easel, and it was clear that the whites were in need of attention. So I set about making them brighter and whiter than Simon Cowell’s teeth. It’s not a particularly creative line of werk, but it needs to be done. Call it essential maintenance.

The most rash thing I did in the interim period was to kick my stool over without looking where it would fall. It toppled harmlessly on a paper plate and an old sock…

I’ve talked (to myself) before about this fear I have of finishing paintings. I don’t think it’s a fear of actually finishing them per se, more a fear of messing up what I’ve done before. As I said at the beginning of this post, I feel like every week when I come back to these werks, I have to re-learn everything I went through the previous week in order to build up the confidence I had last time at the close of play. The only way I can see of eliminating this setback would be to paint for a few solid days in a row, so that it (eventually) becomes a more natural activity. But could I really devote more time to it – it would mean more days away from home and from Verity…

3 red stripes whitened, 5 more to go… number 4 done, fresh air and daylight break… I’m back to take on 5, 6, 7 and 8… 5 and 6 are freshly white… and 7 and 8.


Today I have painted 20 letters and 11 stripes white.

The struggle

[WEDNESDAY 13 MAY 2009]
Not feeling particularly sparky today, so bear with me if I get a little tetchy.

I’m back werking on SPQR after I gave it a fallow week (these neon paintings often need a rest after each layer to allow the paint to dry a bit before over-painting – hence a “fallow period”).

It is 10.46am. I haven’t done a thing yet. Right now I feel like writing the whole day off and going back to bed.

It is now 11.56am. I have werked up another layer, and I think I deserve a tea break.

2.30pm. Still struggling, but still here.

3.50pm. I have been werking and werking on this purple neon. I cannot tell if it’s heading towards completion, or if it has all been in vain. The harsh fluorescent lighting in here isn’t helping. I’ve taken photo after photo and every one has picked out the Cobalt Blue. To the naked eye it appears far more Cobalt Violet.

It is 4.44pm. I’m going to quit while I’m ahead.

White Light

[WEDNESDAY 06 MAY 2009]
Today is all about white neon. I have had interest shown in a painting that has languished in an unfinished state for a number of months. Unfinished because I had not yet decided what colour the neon should be (this because I have not yet successfully painted neon over an existing ground). It sits at the top of the loft hatch, looming over the ladder, a monolithic 118cm x 165cm – A simple , heartfelt declaration: “I THINK OF YOU AND I SMILE”.

All that the potential buyer has seen of it is a view like this:


I have pointed out that it is unfinished, and that I will not be happy letting it go if it doesn’t meet my standards. But maybe I should put pride and artistic temperament aside and let “the customer” decide. It’s not a decision I take lightly – I’m not here for some capitalist joyride, but I do need to pay the rent. And eat.

This is all hypothetical really, because if the damn thing is too big for its prospective home, it will stay here. Still it’s got me fired up to ACTUALLY FINISH a painting, and I’m super keen to depict some serene white neon.

Aside: I neglected to charger Le Pod d’i. We’re running on red, so today I will mostly be listening to 6music. I am saving precious battery power for the dark hours of 10am to 1pm (when G**rg* L*mb and his relentless gooning taints the airwaves).

10.17am: I have been caught up in all this TALK of werk for too long. Time to DO. First, a bit of colour mixing to test which combinations mix with the greatest clarity.


1.30pm: It is DONE. I have been hard at werk filling in neon lettering.

Wildlife watch: I found the remains of a bird’s egg just outside the door. It is sad, but it is a beautiful delicate thing.


A spot of red neon painting, then more white neon. I have a couple of small canvases I started a while ago. This one reads SSSHH.


Today was all about white neon.

Christmas / Devil in Paradise

On Thursday we finally celebrated our Miss Pain Christmas. A bit late I know, but we've all been too busy with other things to get round to wrapping each other's presents and getting together.

We celebrated at Sarah's and drank red wine and Rumona (a Rum based liquor which we nicknamed Rumbago), she even put up a tree and had crackers!

I made Sarah a Mills & Boon style painting:

Devil in Paradise, 2008, oil on canvas, 50cm x 40cm