I dream of meeting Salvador Dali, he was dressed in a short smoking jacket with a paisley design, not dissimilar to the gold coat I was wearing. In his life, he was still painting, and his agent or friend said how new and as ground-breaking as ever his recent painting was. I asked him whether he smoked cigars and he said of course. I slightly annoyed him with tales of of how useful I found his painting book; he remained aloof. In another part of the dream, a bishop was murdered by having his face and neck covered in thick, lead white paint. I knew this was Dali's work because of the paint, and told the police of my suspicions, but they seemed dismissive of my painting knowledge.
Today, a day of glazing The Fictional Secret History of Aspartame. I tend to dislike glazing versus underpainting, it's a slow process of mere finishing, and often, I think that I've not added much to the picture, but I must remind myself that I am wrong. Glazing always improves a picture, sometimes hugely, though sometimes invisibly too, and it's better to glaze the whole painting than only a little. Glazing is a process that demands careful patience, and slow, meticulous exactitude. Underpainting, however, only sometimes does. That more often requires passion, feeling, expression. It is these two feelings, and two layers, that make oil painting the paragon of the arts, if, it indeed is. The musical analogue is one of composing a piano concerto, note by note, then playing it in spectacular style.
For the record, I thought I would detail my tools and equipment. I use two blank sheets of newsprint on my desk surface, as a general backing and to dry or wipe brushes. A third sheet lies behind me on the floor so that I can throw painty-tissue papers onto it. I sit and work in a height adjustable leather office chair with wheels. A jam jar half filled with Zest-It citrus is used as a brush wash. This jar is held at a 45 degree angle by a base I made from clay, so that the pigment and solid parts fall to one corner. As a palette I use a glazed ceramic white tile, 33x25cm, clipped with a metal double-dipper, of which one pot is filled with 20ml of Sansodor solvent, as a dampener, quick washer, or partial medium (I don't use Zest-It in the painting at all, this is just for washing brushes). For oil media, I use a slightly concave glass dish about 80mm in diameter, a lens from an overhead projector, which is a perfect pool for my precious oils (I am reminded that in my dream last night, I told Dali about the excellence of James Groves' Amber Medium). I store my brushes in three Pro-Arte brush wallets: one long one for underpainting brushes, often containing hog brushes; one small wallet for glazing, the sable-type brushes, although I only use synthetic brushes now; and one short one for blending brushes. These brushes are in use; new brushes are stored in separate wallets just for that purpose.
I use my father's beech studio easel, and have blocks of wood of different sizes to jam between the easel and the painting surface as a stop so that I can lean on the work without it being pushed back. I don't use a maul stick, but have vertical wooden poles of 20x18mm pine which hang from the top of the canvas, hovering 10mm away thanks to a wooden disc at the top. These poles can be clamped onto the back of the work using a stopper made from Polymorph. This is just tight enough to hold the sticks horizontally if needed. I have two poles; one 70cm long, one 130cm long for bigger works.
When working I often hold a small piece of cotton, about 12cm square, as a general painting rag. I use white 'lint free' paper rolls, 187mm high, of the sort used by window cleaners, as a general wipe. These are dust free enough to use as a rag too, but less absorbent than cotton.
My computer screen, currently LCD, 17 inch, and not widescreen, is before me as I paint and always contains some source image or reference, even if this is not the object I am painting; the more source images the better as these are unconsciously absorbed. On a painting day, everything the eye sees may appear on the canvas.
