Earlier in the year, during lockdown I made a painting that I felt was a turning point. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something unlocked in me – a joy in the act of painting that I don’t think I have really known before.
I grew up in a carpenters workshop – my mum made extra money by painting on pine furniture that my step father had made. Decades later, having toyed with the odd painted cupboard, I am wondering whether paintings aren’t altogether better presented on a three dimensional object. Here is my first tester. It’s not-very-imaginatively called… Continue reading Furniture as a canvas