the lack of

Been thinking a lot about white and of how it speaks to something deep down.

About purity.

A cover up.  A fresh face.  The fullness of a vacant space.

The capacity and promise of a blank piece of paper.

The beauty of a white bowl waiting to be filled with scones straight from the oven.  Whipped cream, silver spoons and a clean tablecloth.  Girls in white linen dresses and bare feet.  Shiny teeth and clear eyes.

I have noticed (because I am absurdly prone to self-analysis) that whenever I have had a period of rest and resume blogging, there will be a spate of white photos.  Calming, soothing, textured, peaceful.

As I get busier, so do the photos, clashing, colourful, cheerful and busy, and busy and busy…..

I do love colour,  and it sings to me of marvellous possibilities, but there is something in white and paleness that is universally appealing, and I might just explore that in my painting for a while.  Not quite sure how to make it work yet, and there will certainly be more than that to it, but I am thinking that it might be an interesting approach for my solo show next year.

White….