A Welsh word comes to mind when I contemplate this drawing: Llonyddwch. It means ‘Stillness’. In a chaotic world, the river brings me peace. It’s only when the river slows down at the end of the summer that we get to experience reflections like this. At this moment, nature is winding down for the year, in a slow dreamy dance. Growing season is over, and the yellow Aspen leaves are starting to float down through the air, and then float slowly downstream. There is unity and order in this vision, with reflections balancing above and below the shoreline. And yet the most subtle disturbance – a raindrop perhaps, encourages us to see beyond appearances.
For me, painting is an act of slow looking and responding. The process is a gradual opening, a dilation of the mind. Intimacy with a subject comes from staying with it, and not succumbing to distractions. A form of meditation, painting helps me embrace the transience of nature and life.
When I try to grasp Autumn leaves, they lose their color, and turn to dust. Wildflowers wither in my hand, river ripples distort and disappear. Embracing the ephemeral beauty of seasons and light has become a portal to my understanding of the ‘eternal now’. Painting is a synthesis of experience, time and reflection. The slow unfolding of a fleeting moment.
