I Once Was Painting

Born towards the tail end of the Sixties, I am a Cape Town-based artist who specialises in abstract painting. I share my home with my husband and two dogs, and we love camping, hiking and mountain biking (some of the best trails in the world are in the Western Cape).   Drawing and painting is an act through which I challenge myself. A blank canvas is daunting, and the creative process changes me as I push through frustration to achieve results.   Creating grows me intellectually, emotionally and spiritually. As the work evolves, so does my style and my thinking process. Making art is not about repeating what is known and safe, but rather about having the courage to try new ways of creating and not to get despondent when it does not pan out the way I planned.   It is a process of continuously stepping out and making mistakes. Mistakes are opportunities to push further or to start again. As I form shapes, build up and break down layers of paint, dissolve pigments and scrub off the surface, the final image begins to reveal itself. The painting becomes infused with and reflects my interpretation of the world, my thoughts and my emotions. Layers of paint and texture reveal and conceal traces of something left behind, a remnant that is barely recognisable. There might be a ghost of a face or a landscape, an elusive image that morphs and becomes abstract. Each viewer has a unique encounter with my work and when the ambiguous, enigmatic elements of the work reach down into their imagination, they may find an echo of themselves there.   Painting and drawing is therapy and a compulsion as much as it is play. Through the act of visual creation, I process the exterior world and make my interior world visible. There is a tension in the making of art: seen one way it is a luxurious and indulgent activity; on the other hand it becomes a conduit for fear, frustration and heartache.   There is constantly the fear of personal failure, career failure or a single work that fails. Failure has many faces and an artwork can quickly be destroyed by overworking, or falling short of my vision, or by losing my inspiration altogether. As tough as it seems, failure is a door that must be opened in order to progress, to change direction, or to rework the failed piece into something new.   It has been argued that while making art, one has to keep making mistakes. In my case, mistakes are my greatest teachers.