122 x 183cm Acrylic
on Stretched Canvas
I have long been fascinated by aerial landscape and I am scared of heights.
I feel squeamish when I climb a ladder yet I feel totally intrigued, looking from a plane at our enormous country. Giant mountain forms shrink. Their majesty becomes humility as my sense of understanding grows whilst the plane reaches higher into the sky. The great expanse flattens out into a carpet of textures and colour, stretching beyond one’s vision and maybe into the future.
Sometimes the horizon loses itself in its own haze and sometimes it glows magnificently. If you photograph it, you end up disappointed with the results because it never looks as good as you remember it. Photographs don’t capture the aura like your imagination having been fed by the visual banquet, can become complacent when you attempt to splash it down onto paper or canvas. Restrictions occur if you bog yourself down with too much technical and topical detail. Your imagination expands when you concern yourself only with the aura of your subject, emanating into unexpected spirituality. When you harness your work with hard earned, subconscience knowledge and experience, you may suddenly find you have something better than you first imagined.
‘Flood Plain Cartography’ illustrates the wonderful setting for its resident rock forms, sitting there like frogs in a swamp. Apparently monstrous from ground level but incredibly humble when viewed from our aerial perspective.
These flood plains are living breathing things, wildlife galore, above and below the surface, all incognito to the naked eye from where we view it. We study it more closely to determine the story told by the patterns, textures and colours. We notice the sun is shining from the left, we must be facing North or maybe South, is it afternoon or morning? What is going on down there? Does it matter?