Sunday, 25 January
Good Morning Jacob…
My new rule
for writing is to find what I mean and say it. I've often cluttered my thinking with words posed as literature. Often I have to make several passes at a
thought before I know what it is I’m trying to say. Sometimes I never get there. It isn’t easy. I don’t even like it. It’s sitting on a wooden pew that agitates the boil.
I’m trying
to draw these days. There’s always some
mimicry involved, but mostly it’s about portraying something I can’t find with
words. They suggest whirlwinds. Shadows cast by clouds move quickly across
uplift faces as would be caught with time-lapse photography.
There’s
happiness in here somewhere. There’s
also the feeling that everything is about to break – a carnival ride going
berserk, swirling down a drain. Yet,
this isn’t doomsday. Sort through the
emotions you have when you first discover you've fallen in love and this
feeling will be among them.
Artists don’t
conjure lab room logic. We’re closer to
the mumbo-jumbo end of the spectrum. The
imagery, music and poetry created are ruled by the heart. Anything holding to a blueprint or formula is
fakery – painting by the numbers.
I start my
drawings with nothing in mind. Images
begin to congregate on the paper. Connections
are made. Color adds energy and
dimension. After all is done there is
little sense to it. If it works it’s because
it’s a drawing that merely feels like something.
Love,
Dad
© Tom Taylor
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