I’ve given up.
Too many times my chisels have fallen to the dirt floor beneath my carving bench and shattered when hitting the soft dirt.
Too many times I’ve felt confined in my studio working behind “windowless walls” wanting desperately to take my art out into the great outdoors.
Therefore, I’ve — literally and figuratively — buried my carving tools. Never again will my bare feet be in danger.
Three dimensional sculpture is so last century.
Instead, I shall become an “en plein air” artist working — not under the protection of some wimpy studio roof — but directly with the elements; with whatever the great earth goddess and sky god decide to throw at me.
And I shall be using paints just like the great artists do. Artists who are not mere sculptors.
To this end, the above photo demonstrates the seriousness of my investigations into how human manufactured colours blend, interact with, dissolve into and supplement the “natural” colours of their surrounds.
The play between the various actors on this stage is subtle, yet so enriching to the engaged mind willing to look at art in a non-judgemental, mature way where chaos is brought into sublime harmony with the forces of light and dark, the moon and sun, or, even with eagles flying overhead whose shadows dance fleetingly across the land.
With time, nocturnal animals, such as the possum or feral cat, will leave imprints on the still wet paint and re-define the notion of “Who is the real artist”, or, “Can art be whatever sells?”
Future intentions are to get a solo exhibition of this cutting edge canned art at a national gallery in order to bring to city folk a deeper appreciation of how nature willingly accepts whatever we humans spill out onto it.