Underpainted a tiny canvas today called Land of Beauty and Sorrow. I sketched this out two years ago during a 'blitz' of old ideas. Amazing that this has been waiting two years for the six hours it has taken to paint it (I may well glaze it too, more layers always improves the beauty of a painting).
I have so many painting ideas and each strongly grips me. Discipline is needed to stick to one and not jump to the next, but this is so difficult. The newer ideas always seem better and old work often feels out of date, yet, oddly, this painting feels as relevant now as ever. I must keep painting as much as I am able. To oil paint is an essential act of art in its most raw form, and therefore an ultimate expression of culture, and thus intelligent life (and even supra-life existence) itself, perhaps more even than poetry, which is finite due to the finity of language, and often so similar between poets than it's impossible to have one definitive poet. Every painting is unique, a personal reflection of the soul of the painter.
