Washing and dressingThis is post exhibition wallowing in the past!
Before I gather my strength up to move on I look around
This is a multiple take on morning ablutions. Not, I trust in a voyeuristic way, more sensitivity and understanding, at least as far as crossing gender can manage.
A large piece that I delivered to Chatham and hung high up in an enormous kitchen. It was wonderful.
Looking at the brushwork is no encouragement to me, I cannot conceive how I managed it - I was just there when it happened. I remember it was a long journey, the sky and the cane table came late into the work - the hanging underwear is homely and natural.
Done without models or copies, it grew on the canvas till it lived - then I knew it and I ceased my work.