In 1986, I relocated to Cape Town, wanting to begin an art career and teach privately. I found one half of an old farmhouse in Wynberg called Unicorn House, built in 1809. I set up a studio in the lounge and began a series of imaginative mixed media works on canvas. My process was to keep adding pastels and oil paints to stimulate my imagination and find same visual poetry that worked for me. Sometimes I would find quick solutions but more often than not it would take me many hours of searching, wiping off and beginning again, until I was happy with the theme that emerged, and I could stand on satisfactory ground.
It was my first experience of there being no easy shortcut to a successful outcome.
I learned to be a strict self-critic and not sell myself short by taking easy options and finding quick solutions that ultimately didn’t satisfy or contain any integrity. For example, asking if the light on the tree worked, or if the skin tone on the face expressed what I wanted, and if not having the courage and willingness to take the time to change it so that it kept radiating a life in the years to come.
Of course, there were times when it all manifested quickly and beautifully but I think that the process of daily working helped to (seemingly) create without struggle or effort. The ‘God given moments’, as Brett Whiteley named them, happen through hard work, courage and faith.
Even if one isn’t actually painting and drawing, an artist is working inwardly by processing ideas and impressions from daily life. To have an artist’s soul means to resonate with the movement, colour, shapes, sounds, forms, tonality and character of life around one. This resonation builds up to a point where it needs emptying out in fixed expression.
My experience has been that creative life can’t be forced—pure oil paint will still dry more slowly that pure acrylic, and true self-knowledge and worldly understanding can’t be artificially enriched. To be ready and engaged on a daily basis means to be in the flow of a creative stream. Pottering about in one’s studio is all part of being present and preparing the situation for an upcoming creative adventure. Sitting in a café waiting for the muse to arrive doesn’t necessarily work for every visual artist.
‘Taking shortcuts’ implies wanting to make the journey quicker and easier, not be so laborious or tedious. Maybe one is on the wrong path or track if that’s the case. I like working with oil paint, but it is a slow process of accumulated layers, and I do struggle with maintaining the original motivation and feeling. It’s a journey that I balance with a much quicker one using pastels, ink and gouache. When I get saturated with the one process and technique, I switch to the others, trying to maintain a freshness and interest in daily work.
I believe making art is a great teacher in gaining self-understanding, in getting to know oneself—what works and what doesn’t. I don’t feel excited or stimulated when using watercolours or acrylic paint—they just don’t speak a language I can understand and delight in using. Finding one’s tools and materials is an essential step in building towards a happy outcome. The journey is often hard enough, why not feel comfortable with the transport.
