Spring: another progress report

As you may have gathered from my last post, I've got out and about over the last couple of days.

The paintings I'm working on incorporate a foundation made up of several layers of transparent paint and, working in oils, that means I can only put in a couple of hours a day. Hopefully that will change by Sunday when I'll start going in with opaque paint and a little wet-in-wet, and by then the last of the barrier paintings I mentioned before will have been finished so I can get a third one from my new series going. In fact, I think the last barrier painting is only about thirty seconds of work away from being done, but since it is in an area where the bare primer shows through I want to sleep on the decision and be sure as it will be irreversible. Correcting a mistake there would involve losing the sparseness and therefore fundamentally changing the balance of the painting. Since its a very complex painting - a view from inside a hedge - I really don't want to have to rework it for the sake of one rushed decision. I worked out that probably about 80% of my painting time is spent without even having a brush in my hand. I stand or sit there, nursing an empty cup of coffee, just looking and thinking. That ensures sections stay spontaneous and don't become over worked when I do paint them yet they also have sufficient consideration behind them. I do very much view a painting as the fossil of a thought process. So, waiting for paint to dry and with the next two compositions properly prepared and a third one just about there (I only have space to work on three paintings at a time), I have time on my hands. I don't want to approach another gallery right now as my best pieces have been bagsied so I can't spend time sending emails. I'm teaching myself linocutting as I mentioned earlier in the week but I don't want to spend all day carving. I can't gather material for the set of work after the set I'm working now as the trees aren't yet in leaf. I can't afford a train fare and the weather is too squally for cycling to London to be fun, so I've been walking and walking and walking.

Windsor Castle from the Thames path.

I followed the river up to Eton; I can't say how unchanged Canaletto's viewpoint is due to Private Property signs. The main buildings are the same but the gaps have been filled in. I discovered there has been a reshuffle amongst Eton's galleries which is good to know. Unfortunately the one I thought most likely to be helpful to me has gone, but a new one has opened up - although it could be the same one in a different building and with a different name. It is a gorgeous walk and some new views have been opened up which raise simple possibilities, but I will have to let them stew for a while - doing them as is would be cynical rather than professional.

Start bottom left and work clockwise: All the stages of leaf
development on one plant.

I also spent a few hours wandering the woods above Runnymede, seeing how spring in general and the bluebells in particular are getting on. The plants have finally got the idea! From a distance the woods have a new hint of green and everywhere everything is bursting. The bluebells' leaves are looking just about there now - no sign of the flowers but they won't be long. If you've never been to an English bluebell wood when they are in bloom you should put it on your bucket list - do it sooner rather than later though as we have been invaded by Spanish bluebells and the two species interbreed. In doing so, they lose their scent and the scent of a glade of bluebells is the stuff of legend.

Finally I headed up to the Air Force Memorial. Those of you who came here in the first few weeks of the blog will have read about it before. Quite apart from its purpose, it is an astounding space to move through. It is the first time I've been there in strong sun. I didn't realise the reason why the architect had made it point in that precise direction instead of a degree or two either way. Coming off from the main cloister are two curved arms that have a similar shape to wings. All the names on the walls of these wings are carved into window recesses. The sunlight rakes through tall thin windows and across the names, picking out the carving. The curve ensures that as the sun moves round another set of names is lit up.

It is just beautiful.