Power Lines Painting

When I’m out walking, I like to use continuous lines if I’m drawing. They let me get down a lot very quickly, following shapes and jumping from one interesting thing into another without distinction. Sometimes this creates interesting associations and patterns in my mind. I’ve been revisiting a certain corner with my sketchbook on walks over recent days, drawing the same tree by a small pond. Nothing particular about that tree. It usually has a couple of pigeons cooing in it. Except, my drawings have merged its branches each time with the arms of a simple wooden pylon, holding up its power lines and those tantalising reddish-brown porcelain insulators with their pleasing plump disk-like shapes. Today, my routine sketch of this tree and its skinnier companion across the path were accompanied by the strangest of sounds, a rhythmic pulsing echo through the railway line that runs along a hidden cutting parallel with the path. Our island trains, octogenarian tube trains which operated on the London Underground, have finally been retired, and I had a glimpse of orange jackets and hard hats at work on the track in preparation for their replacement. What these workers were doing to make this eerie sound was a mystery to me, but I do enjoy the unfathomable sense of mystique these hidden human networks and industrious activity can create, especially when they crop up unexpectedly in odd corners when we think we’re out for a peaceful walk in the natural world. This is part acrylic painting on canvas, part drawing on paper, with collaged tissue paper and wire wrapped around split pins. The wire casts intriguing shadows in the right light and adds to the interest of the piece.