Photos of the Gone Art

 

Obliteration

 One of the surprise benefits of this new pandemic era for me has been participation in an online art class with a teacher based in the lovely Cotswolds.  Since last year I have attended his various courses, and am learning all about value, hue, and chroma.  I had no idea what these words really meant, in fact, I must admit, I still don't, although goodness knows I am trying to learn about this.

 I have invested in 8 x 10 ampersand panels, many many brushes, and oil paints.  This is not a cheap endeavour, but it is worthwhile, I think.  I have learned a lot, and have almost completed two years of studies. How is that possible? Just another aspect of my new and different relationship with time.  For me time has condensed and expanded and zigzagged back and forth and made circles around itself.

Today my other art class was cancelled as my teacher has hurt her back.  I didn't want to comfort her by letting her know that Queen Elizabeth has also sprained her back, so actually she is in illustrious company. This unexpected reprieve led me to my favorite activity - cleaning, tidying, condensing.

I went through a box of last year's paintings - autumn fruits, Austen roses, Spring daffodils, panels upon panels.  I laid them out on the concrete outside my back door - and wham, obliterated the lot.  I applied a layer of thick white oil ground.  They look like snow has fallen and covered them all, and there they will lie in hibernation, ready to be rebirthed on future courses.

For me it is a feeling of joy - like Navajo Sand paintings and intricate Tibetan Sand Mandalas that vanish, the impermanence of everything.

Obliteration and liberation!