So all modern art has turned on the conventional object and destroyed it.
A pair of paintings in progress. Like the one behind them - posted earlier (see snaps & scraps), all pleasant and vacuous, and awaiting further processes which will render them meaningful to me, but which will ruin the pleasantness I’ve grown accustomed to after looking at and pondering the next stages over a period of days. I often think - is that enough? Are they done? Can they be said to express the central idea when I had only the vaguest idea of what they were to be at their inception. This is a central problem of my newer approach of not studying the life out of works in the preliminary stage, but tackling them in a moment of relatively unfocussed inspiration, then trying to build on that - are they best left as a representation of those moments in time, or do I carry on as intended. The latter I’d say, as otherwise, I’d be able to do about six of these things a day - I don’t have room - I need to drag them out - mess them up, despair over the lost innocence and clarity, then build them up again into something that is hopefully much grander - but I always kind of miss these in between moments once they’re gone. So here they are.
war - combine - 2012 - Rx