This mixed-media series is a response to the immediacy of the isolation experienced at the beginning of the COVID-19 Lockdown.
While dipping in and out of Karl Jaspers' Philosophy of Existence I began to ponder the difference of transcendence and immanence. What happens when you focus your experience inwards? How does isolation lend itself to that journey into oneself.
no. 7, no. 8, no.10, no. 6, no. 3, no. 2, no. 5
Through writing about the process of making these works I begin to see the spell of immanence and perhaps the joy in isolation:
I dip the wide brush into the clean water, letting the excess water drip back into the container.
Holding the brush loosely I make unintelligible marks on the paper, careful to stay away from the edges.
Moving to the watercolour palette I collect pigment onto the corners of the brush.
I then drop the colour into the wet sitting on the surface of the paper.
Adding until it becomes the desired intensity, adding water to mute the tones if needed.
Setting down the brush, I pick up the paper and carefully swirl the pigment around, allowing it to collect and then sending it on its way again.
Placing the bit of a painting aside to dry of its own volition, I stand up and move to look out the front window.
I make a cup of hot lemon with ginger and honey.
After sufficient time, I move back to the dried slip of a painting and choose the right pastel to start with.
After adding gestural splotches I then use a finger to blend the chalky powder into the paper.
Scrubbing at it with a dry brush I push and pull the pigment across and into the paper.
Blending until it becomes indiscernible from the watercolour.
I continue to add pastel colours until there is enough to make the eye wonder.
Next is the gold or silver ink, depending on the colour palette.
I dip into the small pot with my smallest brush, creating tiny organic marks in the nooks and crevices.
These marks make the surface flicker, shifting, something in between.