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“The painter draws with his eyes – not with his hands. Whatever he sees, if he sees it clear  he can put it down. The putting of it down requires, perhaps, much care and labor, but no  more muscular agility that it takes for him to write his name. Seeing clear is the important  thing.”
– Maurice Grosser, “The Painter’s Eye”

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Got to Hamilton a tad early and wandered the street / even sketched  some of the urban  doorways in  the late day sun in the laneway behind Ottawa Street and Wendy got me a pork pie hat at a local hattery. Always wanted one and now have one. After years of  putting on our own exhibitions twice yearly, last night was at my ‘first’ gallery show in a  long long while that i was merely participating in. Certainly is different when not running it; initially felt at a loss as regards what to do, and yet when the gallery filled up with people.  I found the ‘rush’ i get connecting them with my paintings is just as urgent as always, and fear,   that as usual,  i talked my fool head off all night long.

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This time of year i find, with everything there is to do, the days just zoom on by rather quickly So if you do get a chance to see the exhibition which runs thru October 6^th    – i recommend it,  (no bias here whatsoever); Andrea has cleverly and insightfully  arranged the latest work both Gord and I have on display.

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Looking back, all summer, when everything is green – a spiritual colour – was drawn  to the water like a duck to water lily root shoots’  / have continued to work on the  series on infinity rings both for the Earls Court Gallery Exhibition  and for the  Silver Bridge and Matilda Swanson Galleries which have had both  interest and  success with the water patterns we have given them.

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painting can never be random. Arbitrary choice and chance as interaction with myself   delighting in the infinite that is nature / how much of the landscapes I paint are within  myself / are what intrigue me about nature how much of it do I not know where it will  take me?

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‘truth’ is situational and changing, disorder is my natural state, and perpetual change is  freedom when choices prevail;  painting for me, offers the possibility to create /  make up /  formulate meaning or at least wrangle some significance to / out of my existence….

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