I was hoping that my enforced absence from art would enable me to build a new life without struggle and disappointment. I mean artistic struggle.
As you can see I have not been successful. The struggle continues, and my life is all the richer for it. It seems when I am painting I engage more strongly with life and life seems more vital. An afternoons painting whilst listening to Scarlatti, is this suffering?
Evening, Northumberland. Day 1