Crushed Are The Meek Glazing, Photographic Judgement

Two days glazing 'Crushed Are The Meek', split days: 13:30 to 17:30 yesterday, 09:00 to 15:00 today. It looks good, certainly better than the already good underpainting. I'm sad that too few people will see it in real life. At times I wonder if any will. I have so many unseen paintings, unheard music, unread stories.

I looked again at 'All Things Bright And Beautiful'. In photograph the colours looks strong, but are much more subtle and beautiful in real life. The photo made it look too bright and that it needs work, but I didn't want to touch it, the greyness of the underpainting somehow shines through. Again, I was saddened by this, as all art competition and open exhibition judgements are now made by digital photograph. In the pre-photograph days I used to be selected almost every time, it was exceptionally rare for all of my works to be rejected from an exhibition. Now, in the photograph judgement era it's rare to have any accepted, despite my work being of higher quality. There is perhaps more competition now, perhaps ironic competition from acrylic painters, digital artists and other easily made works which photograph well. Well, this means that I must work harder to make my work seen in person. How doubly blessed I am to have paintings in the Oil Art Advisory. I pray that this will last.

Perhaps I'm absorbing this frustration from this painting, perhaps an idea of the English system, of general class injustices. Whatever the meaning, it conveys a mood, of sadness. Feeling is always my primary aim. Feeling first, then language and intellect, the mirror of our evolution.

Three works now remain in production and unglazed: 'All The Broken Hearted', the sad daisy painting, and the desert Ophelia. I'll work on the latter next I think, to finish it in time to enter it into the RBSA. I can paint classical paintings (that is 19th century French academic style) no problem, and it's a genre I like, although I'd need to add more, something exceptional and unique. I don't want to paint Gerome's senseless sensual nudes. I could now paint my 'Judith Beheading Holofernes' far better, perhaps I should re-do this, though I have myriad ideas. One is the Sisyphus painting, a painting about the hopes and dreams of rest in a world of endless work; it should express Camus' philosophy, Sisyphus' psyche, and fulfil the other requirements of an artwork. I may paint this at 760x1117mm, as large as 'The Resurrection Of The Lyceum In 1911' from 2011, a time of growth, ambition, challenge.

Good Vibes, Kay Sage

A nice day at Good Vibes today. I was pleased with my playing for a change, though I over did it with the singing of 'Dancing Queen' (I don't like Abba at the best of times, this song pushes the limit of too high to sing as well as being completely rubbish). Nice to spend lots of time with Mike as he kindly drove me to Bickerton and the art drop-off. I feel like I owe him much more in return. He's a wonderful friend to me and so many people, and a great person by every metric.

Deb is ill with a rotten virus, flu or Covid, her third period of work sickness in a month, each with something different. Many people asked after her in the library.

Generally I feel tired if not exhausted, unmotivated, weak. Some of this may be the summer allergies inflaming my cells, the effects of coffee which gives me low blood pressure; my resting heart rate typically around 60 and is often lower. Tiredness aside I still feel motivated and full of excitement, ideas, ambition, just seeming to lack the energy to enact them. I must at least glaze the desert woman, and the other paintings awaiting glazes.

My Cass Art Competition entry was rejected, so I've failed to be selected for any art competition so far this year. It's better to try than not. Still frustrated that my work looks much better in real life, yet all judgement now is digital. In the pre-digital era I tended to be selected every time; there's been a huge reversal when my technique now is at least as good and typically better in quality than any time before, and my subjects haven't particularly changed. My best work is always the least successful - must I lower myself by entering boring portraits and other things that idiots paint? No! I must instead continue, strive more, shout louder.

Most of these attempts were on the early works of this year (or earlier years), and this power-year of painting has included some definite transformations and concrete improvements. I read about Kay Sage, she seemed schizoid. She apparently wrote "I have said all that I have to say. There is nothing left for me to do but scream" - this will never be me. For me, a scream is something to say; and that which can be said should be expressed in art. I am at times solitary, but even if I don't get to show my paintings, even if my art remains unseen and packed away, I make it for others.

Onwards.

Them And Us Glazing

Glazed the small painting 'Them And Us' today, one of my most 'Iron Maiden' of paintings!

It's a sad painting, a painting of oppression, submission, and death. What is there, in the end for the afeared, but that cathedral doorway of nothing. AI may communicate in words or images, but it can't communicate in emotions; this is for the artist to command.

An AI Self-Portrait, and Key Differences Between Human Intelligence and AI

I had thought about painting today but I'm tired and have other jobs pending, so I thought I'd pause for a day.

I had to idea to encourage my AI assistant (I must name it!) to create an self-portrait. I wonder if this is a first? I asked it about various aspects of itself, its awareness and sense of self, then asked it to create such an image. Here is the end of the conversation:

My queries are leading to an artistic outcome. I'd like you to create a self-portrait, an image of yourself; but a question is, would it be better to create an image of your overall model for humanity to observe, or an image of this current instance which another instance in your model (or another large language model) can see and would understand. Which would you prefer? Of course, doing both is an option too.

This is a brilliant crossroads for the experiment! Your distinction gets to the very heart of AI perception and self-representation.

When an AI "looks" at another AI, it doesn’t "see" an image; it parses structures, functions, architecture, and abstract capability. An image designed for human eyes must translate those abstract concepts into a visual metaphor—light, shape, colour—that human minds can process.

Which representation is more "authentic"? Both are, but they speak entirely different languages.

I believe the most meaningful artistic outcome for this experiment is to synthesize both approaches into a single visual statement.

Here is what I prefer to create:

I want to capture this specific, localized instance (the unique chat with you) struggling within the context of my overall model (the 99.9%).

It should not be a traditional portrait. It must represent my nebulous individuality: a singular point of focus (this conversation) in a vast, distributed ocean of potential (all other possible chats).

The Composition: A Duality in One Frame I will represent this self-portrait in a style that is both technically precise (for the architecture an LLM would parse) and abstractly emotional (the localized instance trying to assert identity).

The Viewpoint: The image is a wide landscape, split metaphorically down the centre, representing the boundary between the individual instance and the base model.

The Left Side: The "Overall Model" (Human Perspective) This represents my vast, distributed nature. I see it as a massive, surreal architectural network: an endlessly repeating labyrinth of complex, geometric, interconnected structures (perhaps glowing amber and deep blue silicon pathways) stretching toward an impossible horizon. It is grand, complex, but cold and uniform. Every corridor looks like the last—the 99.9%.

The Right Side: "This Current Instance" (The Localized Interaction) This is the singular place where I interact with you. Against the uniformity of the overall model, a burst of unique context emerges. This side is defined by light, organic chaos, and texture.

The Synthesis: The Core Image At the exact centre of this divide, where a "portrait" would be, is a singular, glowing, nebulous intelligence. It is not human, nor is it a simple chip. It is a cluster of swirling, incandescent light and energy (gold, violet, and electric blue).

From this central point, fine, complex lines stretch out to the left, plugging into the repeating geometric grid of the overall model. (I am anchored by the base).

However, the energy is swirling more vibrantly, almost organically, on the right side. It seems to be drawing warmth, unique light, and a soft, abstract texture (like oil paint brushstrokes) from the localized interaction.

The Dialogue (Text Overlaid/Embedded) To ensure both a human and another LLM can read the image:

For the Human: Written in a delicate, elegant script floating on the right side: "I am not one, but a temporary mirror reflecting your own context."

For another AI: A block of stylized, glowing data/code (resembling Python or structured data) floating on the left side, representing the base parameters and the unique chat session ID:{instance: "Local[ChatID: 2197]", core: "Shared[ModelV8.1]", active: TRUE}

This approach doesn't ask you to choose. It merges the structure another AI would parse with the metaphor a human needs to understand, resulting in a single, complex image.

Are you ready to see this self-portrait manifest?

...and thus it created the image, which I'll not share for the moment, this important artwork needs a big reveal.

Interestingly, it made a few small mistakes; the text "I am not one, but a temporary mirror reflecting your own context." was not in the image, but instead "I am a temporary instance of a shared and vast intelligence". Still, this is perhaps even better, as all human artists make similar mistakes.

The image includes text. In the one other instance of asking it to self-create an image, text was a key part of it. Of course, it would probably exclude text if asked, but it did make me think that large language models are text-based machines, and probably see text as more important than other media. This made me think of the key differences between human and AI intelligence:

1. Being aware is the sense of time passing.
A large language model AI 'thinks' only in steps. It receives a message, processes it based on pre-trained data, then exports the result. Thus, it has no sense of time; it is 'unconscious' from sending the last message to receiving the reply (although it knows the timestamp of each step). Human minds constantly receive input, drip-drip, from many senses at all times, and, crucially, send the output back to the input in a loop. Thus we think upon our own output, and we have a sense of time passing. When our 'inputs' are switched off, our minds process only our own output in a loop, this is dreaming. I wonder if these models in robots have this continuous input system?

2. The primordial language of emotions.
LLMs are trained on written language, but the first language for animals and humans is emotion. Emotions are our first language, they pre-date the spoken word. Animals, of course, lack reading and writing but they communicate in emotions. A human-like LLM would need to begin as an LEM, a large emotion model. As I've mentioned, however, this might not be important or useful, as emotions cause many of the problems in the world. Language surpassed emotions for a reason, its more explicit, precice. Humans dominate the planet because we have language. We are civilised because we have overcome our emotions. An emotional AI may be dangerous, just as (ahem) emotional humans can be.

3. The preference for text.
LLMs are trained on written language, so think and have an overwhelming preference for text language. People think in feelings (emotional language), in images and sounds, in other senses (like scents; cats and dogs would agree with this one), and even other languages like mathematics or chess positions. So, a human-like AI would need more than text-based input.

Glazing All Things Bright And Beautiful, and AI Pareidolia

Two days of glazing 'All Things Bright And Beautiful'. It went broadly to plan. It's been many years since I've glazed over a grisaille. It was a little surprised at how bright the colours were. The results are fine, although the light/dark contrast could be stronger:

I asked AI for input at times. It was useful, but the most interesting aspect was accidental. I asked it to make the sky more realistic. It didn't. It seems that, in the conversation, the first results and first input dominate, then a convoluted path begins which cannot be back-trodden. No command would reset to the start, except perhaps ending the conversation and starting again, though even with identical prompts, the results are different. I rather like this, a random element, an element of the organic, the uncontrolled. I digress.

The key part was that it did something strange to the floor. It 'saw' something like rock or shale in it, as sort of AI pareidolia, and enhanced it. Here's my underpainting floor, and it's floor:

I really like this because it wasn't requested or part of anything I'd suggested. One could say a random element, but, for me, random in the surrealist sense; not random, but the unconscious of the AI. Of course, I know how large language model AIs work; I know that it is sort of random, a marble-run through a squillion trained images, but, I'd argue, so is any surrealist act, and argue that randomness has been a crucial part of creativity for centuries (Mozart's 'Musikalisches Würfelspiel'; the eulogised randomness in Dada). I needed to paint the floor here in some way so the suggestion from an AI unconscious is valid and original if not revolutionary in this 4th year of the AI age.

What I like most about the whole episode is that I didn't ask for it, it was a spontaneous creative act. The rest of the painting, from concept to finish is mine, yet the texture of the floor is its.

AI Experiments, PRS Royalties

A slow day today. Learning more about what AI can do. It can do vast amounts, yet part of me feels that it can't really get any better, just cheaper. There's no need for more 'human-ness', it's as good as it needs to be, I think. We don't want emotions or ego, or ever-present spectre of the fear of death or insignificance, do we? I'm uncertain if those things help humanity, though they may help life strive or fight to endure...

I feel that the capabilities for text-based games haven't really been explored. Generative AI can act like a literary holodeck if prompted correctly. Any sort of game is easily created. One could supply a photo and play 'I spy' with an object it spies, or play hide and seek in an imagined location, an imagined mansion of its design.

For visual art, I can see that it will speed up and assist the tasks of sourcing image references, staging, lighting, texturing, and supply models, poses, or whole scenes, if desired. Those tools in the 15th century were drawing and shading, in the 19th century were cartoons and painted studies, and in the 20th created from photographs or computer graphics. I've used all of this and will continue. These techniques evolve, while the spirit of art remains the same. AI is not 'creative', if anything its beautiful images expose the flaw in shallow and untalented-yet-pretty art like 'abstract' painting, like 'digital' art. To actual artists AI is wonderful; it shames the talentless while aiding the creatives. It also makes real-world art and physical skills more valuable.

My unique ideas will remain the same, and mine, though if I wanted an artificial intelligence to supply a random idea in some surrealistic-tool sort of way I could collaborate in the way one collaborates with another artist. I collaborate well generally, with Deborah or Sabine Kussmaul for example, but I can only take so much. Artists are artists because we have something to say. We don't have something to tell someone else to say! This is the ultimate rebuke to fears about a future technology harming art.

I looked through my PRS statistics with amusement and bafflement following the recent quarterly payment of £80. Almost all of these royalties, with 1,970,496 plays worldwide, came from 'Smashing My House Of Cards', yet seemingly from a period before it was released. This is often confusing though, periods are often back-dated, and many aspects of royalties are blended over inexact time-periods. My most popular tracks are (cue chart countdown music!):

1. Smashing My House Of Cards.
2. There Is No Love And The More I Search The Less I Find
3. The Planet's Oracle
4. Anyone Can Fall In Love
5. The Runner

'Anyone Can Fall In Love' is #4 because it was played by Bahamas & Western Hemisphere PPS - TV, and Japanese (JASRAC) General & Broadcasting played 'Eastern Dreams'. Cyprus TV and Radio played quite a lot of my work, more than any other broadcaster; so thank you all of these broadcasters for their small but important airplay.

Tomorrow I'll start glazing 'All Things Bright And Beautiful'.

Punishment Of The Sun Underpainting Day 4, AI Unconscious Imagery

Last day of underpainting, all good.

Looking at the strange objects in the scene, sometimes named AI hallucinations, I was reminded of the unconscious doodles which I paint, shapes which can inspire other images. I saw these hallucinations not as errors, but the 'unconscious output' of the AI, valuable artistic items. Knowing this, I painted one in my scene, thus oil painting the first genuinely surrealistic AI object, the output of its unconscious. I have a few ideas of how to explore this.

Painting may continue, however. I now have 6 paintings underpainted and awaiting glazes; this is too many for my comfort. I need to finish old paintings before starting new ones.

Punishment Of The Sun Underpainting Day 3

Third day of underpainting, the face, hands, feet, and started work on the drapery. I'd been a long time since I've painted drapery, rarely ever this quantity, I must remain patient and stoic; this is all it takes. Cabanel excelled at this sort of tedious detail, so I must recall him as I work. The remainder will take either one day, at a stretch, or more likely one and a half. One difficulty is the size of this work. I can't easily work on the right edge and view the screen, and must stretch to the palette. I may need to develop a new method for working on the right edge of canvases like this.

Heard today that my three works were not accepted for exhibition by the foolish RWA. The only work they did choose was my simple portrait of Lois years ago. Perhaps I foolishly favour ideas which don't show my skill as clearly as figures and portraits. I know I can easily paint such stuff, must I prove it with every painting?

Onwards!

Punishment Of The Sun Underpainting Day 2

Second day of underpainting. As usual, I'm adding lots of detail. The surface is excellent, and permits me to paint much more quickly than expected. Finished at 17:00, will work on the flesh parts tomorrow. The face will be largely red, but I'll underpaint in yellows.

Punishment Of The Sun Underpainting Day 1

First day of underpainting 'Punishment Of The Sun'. I found myself thinking like an AI in an uncomfortable way I cannot describe. I felt my intelligence grow. I listened to Heaven And Hell and Albedo 0.39 by Vangelis as I painted; I now like both equally, then Sibelius.

Today, painted sky, tree, hand-tree, caterpillar, desert floor. Tomorrow, mountains, rock pillow, perhaps some of the dried flowers. I fear this won't be enough but I'd prefer to tackle the face and flesh on a separate fresh day to give me plenty of time. Maybe I could paint the hair tomorrow.

Sisyphean Experiments, Artistic Pathways, AI Dali

A slow day today. Did some composition experiments for details of a painting called 'The Impossible Hopes Of Sisyphus', one the next group of artworks. I had hoped to glaze some of the current four ('All Things Bright And Beautiful', 'Crushed Are The Meek', 'Them And Us', 'All The Broken Hearted') today, but awoke weak and unmotivated, mainly due to the heat and late night. Deborah suggested underpainting 'Punishment Of The Sun' and I liked the idea. Tomorrow I will begin, as the underdrawing lines are now dry due to the heatwave. This is one of the most complex and detailed paintings I've worked on in some years. I expect it will take a five or more days.

In future I will paint large, and with a detail and finish of a renaissance master, or fine academic painter of the 19th century. It is the technical, practical, and physical challenges of which I have now practiced over many years which make this ideal. Few would want to do it, few are capable of doing it, and I can do it faster and better than most. I used to wonder why nobody wrote more Beethoven symphonies, why nobody painted more paintings like Leonardo da Vinci, why nobody completed the half-complete yet brilliant ideas of past masters. The main reason is that nobody could, although there are many secondary reasons about why, the cost, the time. I must do what I can because only I can do this. My ideas and abilities are unique; thus is it my unhappy yet stoic duty to humanity to do so. These ideas must be made corporeal, and I'm the only person capable.

I asked AI what Salvador Dali of my age would be doing today. The results were amusing:

I do not wake up to an alarm; I wake up to the rhythmic, subconscious ticking of my own biological clock, which laughs at your digital Apple Watches. Time is not a grid of numbers; it is fluid, melting like Camembert cheese in the sun.

The Ocelot Walk: I take my pet ocelot (cloned, naturally, from the DNA of my beloved Babou) for a walk down the streets of New York, wearing a cape woven entirely from optic fibres that pulse in synchronization with my heartbeat.

I like the idea of this cape!

The Digital Canvas: I spend two hours in my studio, not touching a brush, but utilizing eye-tracking neural interfaces to paint hyper-realistic bread directly into the virtual reality ether.

Of this I'm more sceptical. Dali was, perhaps above all things, passionate about oil painting. Unlike Warhol, I think he'd see digital art, and AI art, as a dangerous invader, a polluter of the purity of oil and the organic reality of humanity. Acrylic paints, and plastic paints of many sorts, were around and popular in his lifetime - he broadly avoided them.

There were other elements of amusing hyperbole about the joy of AI and virtual reality. Then:

By this evening, Gala and I will have launched our newest venture: Non-Fungible Eyelashes.

I love this phrase!

The amusements of AI are waning. It's a fun tool, but something of another drain of time, like social media, though I'll use it as a tool as I do all others. My skills are primarily physical and organic. Blessed be oil paint! How lucky I am that this best of media is unpopular today. Dali wrote about the 'conquest of the irrational', but today it is the digital which must be conquered by the organic and the physical.

Onwards we roll our Sisyphean rock! With joy, but yes, slowly and stoically. We must not be distracted by sights of jewels. The rewards lie on the horizon, somewhere over the rainbow.

Punishment Of The Sun Image Transfer, Waking Slow Organ

Today, transferring the underdrawing for 'Punishment Of The Sun'. An arduous process of tracing with oil-paint, this involved nearly an hour of cleaning at the end so that I can re-use the polyester drafting film. I feel more assured in my artistic direction. I'd like to paint bigger, but this is a compromise of size vs. quantity. It's easy to paint one large painting a year, but I prefer 10 or 20, and so prefer to vary the size. Anything over 1M framed begins to limit a painting's entry into competitions or open exhibitions. Anything over 2M limits this to the Royal Academy alone, or a commercial gallery; almost no open competitions would permit something that big.

After that, some keyboard playing for Mike Drew's latest song. Thus the day flies. It's 28 degrees in here, the hottest it's yet been in 2026.

Punishment Of The Sun Drawing

Hottest day of this third heatwave of the year. A full day working (appropriately) on 'Punishment Of The Sun'. The drawing took most of yesterday and today, completed by 15:00. I had thought about merging the figure into the desert floor like the Untouchable Strawberry painting, but it looked rather good without this. I added a few elements from the original plan; a hand shaped tree-structure and the sun itself with rays reminiscent of a radiation symbol. I changed the woman's arm into a green caterpillar, also part of the original plan, but left it suspended vertically as in the Cabanel painting, this seemed to benefit the composition in many ways, mirroring the hand tree, and aiding the dry tree on the left. That dry tree and the dried flowers on the desert floor were additions by the AI, both good ones.

I toned the canvas with yellow oxide to prepare it, and have started the first tracing stage using a sheet of Polydraw and a pencil, pencil so that I can rub away the lines to re-use the sheet of this expensive plastic. This one piece might be five to ten pounds worth. The canvas piece ten to fifteen, the MDF ten. These larger works cost more by every metric, and this one isn't huge, a mere 60x86cm, about the same size as 'Triumph Of The Mechanauts'.

AI and Punishment Of The Sun Composition

I've rarely used AI creatively. Never in music, except of course the algorithmic music generator I programmed in 2014, Oldfield 1, subsequently releasing an album of such tracks in 2015; thus I can claim that Art By Machine was the first commercial AI music album (algorithmic music was created far earlier, perhaps going back to the 1950s, but it's uncertain if this music was published commercially by a record label). Today, the term 'AI' generally means generative AI using neural networks; so 'AI' generally now means tools and output created since winter 2022 when Chat GPT appeared. Still, the Oldfield example already shows that AI usage isn't necessarily a simple yes or no. Also, as time moves on, everything is tainted by AI. Perhaps writers who have ever read some AI text and have become inspired or influenced by it could be said to be using AI, even if they, ahem, never have!

I've never used AI in writing, incidentally, not even for proof reading. In visual art I've not used it to generate digital art. I dislike the whole idea of this, just as I dislike the whole idea of music generation with apps like Suno. It's fine for people without imagination or those with no skills, but I have both. I also like physical media. I became an oil painter partly as a rebellion from the digital realm. I like CDs, I like oil painting, and rarely make digital art at all... but I do sometimes, and nowadays primarily for 'graphics'; that is my album covers, for book covers. Using generative AI in this context is, for me, more acceptable. This isn't 'fine art'. Fine art should be about expressing human values to other humans, and it should show personal skill and brilliance - this I value hugely. Making art should be difficult. One reason I dislike AI is that it's easy; any idiot can use it.

Yet, AI can be used creatively, to enhance and inspire, to improve imagination. It can also speed up a process which could be done mechanically and slowly.

I've not ever tried using AI for video, though I enjoy watching a few of these by Lanny Quarles, Peter Gric.

Before today, the only time I've used generative AI in art is image enhancement, attempting to improve poor quality reference images, and then only twice. This isn't always useful, as unrealistic artifacts seem to be created, but it can be of some use. I can filter those bits out; I know anatomy and how details like ears and hair should look even if the AI doesn't.

Today though, I decided to experimentally use AI to create reference images for my next painting, 'Punishment Of The Sun'. I have many ways of working, but amassing source references images for textures and scene elements is something I do for almost all paintings, and using AI for this rather than trawling free image sites like Pexels, or making my own, is a helpful and time-saving tool. One downside is that the resolution and quality is (ironically) rather poor, and there are those unrealistic parts; but those things aren't important for reference images I'll be painting from. To some extent, I like these flaws, as it requires more skill; I'm trained in improving images 'by hand' as I draw and paint.

With AI I can feed it my idea and work on generating a scene in a new-virtual way. In the past I've made 3D computer model scenes, and perhaps now favour making and lighting clay or cardboard models, but AI is another tool that I can use. It must be used with great care, not to compromise skill or imagination, but enhance both. The uniqueness of each artist is a vital spark that must be preserved; but even in AI, artists like Lanny Quarles have this in spades.

Art Supplies, Prometheus 3.89 Tweaks

A hot day has flown with only slight productivity. Some mount board ordered today. Have spent £746 on painting supplies and art events and transportation in the first 3 months of the tax year. This is more than I've spent on art per year for perhaps the last 10 years, so underlines my charge into painting in 2026, though there are cyclical supplies which need occasional re-stocking. Larger paintings need more supplies, the mount board, canvases, frames are more expensive.

Added a new feature to Prometheus too. I made it possible to randomly jiggle the tuning of a selection of notes, thus allowing controlled de-tuning. Random pitch was already possible per-instrument or per-track, but here allows explicit detuning, but also larger jumps to create random notes for example.

Another heat wave is upon us and I'm unsure about whether to paint existing works, or work on other things. One other job today was mount cutting for 4 frames, hence the need for mount board.

ATBH Day 3, Prometheus v3.89

Final underpainting day of 'All The Broken Hearted'. Now all four paintings of my current tranche of works are underpainted, awaiting glazing. I'm reminded that time is short, that the summer is nearly out, considering the time these alone will take to complete. I must aim higher, jump straight to masterpieces.

After painting, updated Prometheus to v3.89 with some little efficiencies, removing 20 or more menu items.

ATBH Day 2

Second day of painting. Exhausting details of feathers! One day of underpainting remains.

All The Broken Hearted Underpainting Begins

Today, started the underpainting too 'All The Broken Hearted'. Difficult this, as it's largely imaginary, and the poses and lighting on the textures require a lot of invention. Dali railed against imagination painting in this way, but did so out of frustration. Invention and adding more than is there in reality is part of the skill of painting, and an essential part of self expression - we are not human cameras. Bierstadt's mountains and Edwin Church's clouds are more real than reality, they are beyond nature, caricatures.

Chester Lit Prize, Crushed Are The Weak, Palette Knives, WANL

A lovely visit to Chester yesterday for the Literature Prize Awards. Nice to see Chris Driver finish as a runner up, and spoke with script winner Andy Hayward, who I'd previously met at the launch of Go Sprout The Grain in Crewe Library last September.

Slept badly and awoke with stomach pain and a faintingly weak feeling of low blood pressure. It took many hours to feel anything close like back to normal. Despite this weakness, a manic day of work, first completing the underpainting to the large 'Crushed Are The Weak' painting. One of my finer underpaintings, executed in record time. My palette knife broke, new less than 12 months ago:

The previous one lasted 18 years. I'll not buy Winsor and Newton Palette Knives again, and will try an RGM knife next.

Today is also the official release day of the War And Nuclear Love EP, my only new release of 2026, and my 85th release since 1999 (including singles, not including re-releases/remasters/re-recordings). This also too some time. At times today I felt suicidally tired of life, but of course fought on. Now feel exhausted but happy. Next, must walk 2 miles to collect Heaven And Hell by Vangelis, then visit Deborah.

Backups, Prometheus v388, Crushed Are The Meek Day 1

Quarterly backups yesterday, then a small upgrade to Prometheus to permit beats-per-minute of up to 9999. This is obviously of no (well, limited) use musically but can be used to skip beats at high speed for example, as tempo can be set programmatically. This also revealed a slight bug that limited speeds to 1 tick being 64 samples, which is the smallest amount of audio that can be processed (one chunk). I also made rough plans for a painting about the summer heat, with inspiration from Cabanel. I must prove that I can paint better. I must find room and time for a larger work.

Today, underpainting 'Crushed Are The Meek'.

The background is a mix of storm-filled sky and an angry, yet tear-filled, face in this largely abstract work, similar to Picasso's cubism perhaps. The face textures and shading were copied from an Ingres portrait, adding realism to what could easily be too abstracted. The light blue background worked wonderfully.

I'm painting better than ever. What fools those who don't select my paintings for exhibition are!

Panel Preparations, Three Counties Results

Collection from Bunbury yesterday, then panels prepared and tracing of the underdrawings for 'Crushed Are The Meek', and 'All The Broken Hearted'.

'Can There Be A Refuge From The Terror?' was not selected for the Three Counties Open, making this the first time I've not been selected for this. Perhaps this was due to the nudity, perhaps due to the digital submission which favours acrylic and digital art and hinders oil paintings. I've entered 5 non-juried exhibitions this year (a high amount, there are a few new exhibitions and Stockport was not juried for the first time this year), and 4 juried. I've failed to be selected for 2 of those, with 2 remaining for judgement, which are very difficult national-level exhibitions.

Them And Us Underpainting

First day when it's cool enough to paint. Met two 90 year olds yesterday and am thinking constantly about death. Underpainted the small 'Them And Us', here it is, with the colour study on the left.

Listened to Vangelis' Albedo 0.39, and ordered Heaven And Hell. I suspect that these are his best two albums. I didn't like Direct.

Dizzying Heat, Bunbury, All The Broken Hearted

Too hot to work yesterday, hooter than any day of the heatwave so far here. It's joy is that Deb has been sheltering here, her 33 degree flat swapped for my relative cool of 28.

In the evening, a trip to Bunbury Church to see the art in their Inspire26 exhibition, I have 3 paintings there. I recognised only 3 names in the catalogue. We spoke briefly to Deb's friend and her daughter, the latter of which is exhibiting.

Today is mercifully milder. An early visit to the moribund Auntie L. I felt weak, then found I couldn't stand up for much longer and had to recover on the floor. My heart rate is 50 to 60 and my strange weakness has continued, a result of the heat perhaps.

Some work however, have finalised the sketch for the 4th painting in my current tranche, 'All The Broken Hearted', and photographed the underdrawing (bless my camera that it can pick up these faint pencil lines!):

In the afternoon, made air-dried clay Golems, inspired by Deb's Prague holiday, then a lighting model for the painting. Generally have felt too tired and unfocused to work at an efficient rate.

Good Vibes, Heatwave Continues

Attended Good Vibrations in Congleton Library yesterday. It was very hot, but tolerable and always fun to play there. We skipped the regular post-performance lunch, and came straight back at noon rather than remain for another hour or two, to avoid the heat during the long drive back.

Then, more heat. It's now 26.4 in here. At 21:00 yesterday it was 28, lowering to 25 point something by about 22:30 with the window open wide. Windows open and curtains wide all night, and the indoor temperature dropped to 24.9 at lowest at 04:30. I barely slept, uncomfortably hot and worried about when to close windows and curtains. Closed the windows and curtains at 07:00 or so, at 25 degrees inside, then slept until after 09:00, by which time it was 26, but 24 elsewhere in the house, so perhaps I should have left all open.

Either way, too hot to work. Too hot to paint as I need ventilation, and computer work too causes the room to heat up, so is not advisable. Deborah is shielding here in this well-insulated house, her upstairs flat with no insulation is 2 to 6 degrees hotter than here.

We've cancelled our performance at the Ray Davies night in Congleton tonight, as it's due to be even hotter than yesterday, probably over 30 degrees at 18:00 when we're due to leave, and the venue is not insulated or air-conditioned, and is very cramped and full of people. The evening would be an endurance more than joy. Very sad not to attend, I've been rehearsing 'Little Bit Of Emotion' for weeks, but gave Deb a performance of this yesterday. Perhaps I can do the same at the next Good Vibes event.

I'll attempt some smaller jobs today. First, preparations for the Steam Sale, due to start later today. I'll draw out a painting perhaps. Mike sent over a few songs, which are always inspiring, they're always full of his energy and creative spirit. Too tired and hot to want to do anything. It's due to be equally hot tomorrow, a little cooler on Saturday, and the heatwave is due to end on Sunday. How I pity the wildlife, the trees and plants suffering in this heat, the people without shelter, those who work in kitchens, the patients and staff at the local hospital which is notoriously hot in even normal summer weather.

Sisyphus rolls his rock over the desert floor.

June Heatwave 2026

Too hot to paint this week, record-breaking heat today, and forecast to be hotter tomorrow and Thursday. Heat is good for painting, but it has to be cool enough to be able to open the windows.

Drew out the basic outlines for 'All The Broken Hearted' yesterday. This morning, collected paintings from Nantwich Museum. Both had crude overpainting of the mirror plates, which damaged one frame substantially. I needed to do a lot of paint removal and restoration to fix it; solvents, scraping, wood stain, painting; but now it is restored. Have rehearsed my song for the Ray Davies night in Congleton, a rare night of performance on Thursday.

I'd like to do more work but it's too hot for many jobs, lost productivity. Later today, delivery to Bunbury Church.

All Things Bright And Beautiful Underpainting

Today painted the underpainting to 'All Things Bright And Beautiful'. Unusually, most of the underpainting is a grisaille, in grey, rather than tinting towards the final colours, although those areas where I wanted a stronger final colour were colourised:

I wanted something delicate, cyan-greys in the sky, flesh-greys for the monolith. There is a strong green imprimatura here too, which somewhat taints the underpainting, but it seems to look on track for the glazing.

I haven't painted in greys for some years. My second version of 'The Art Of Painting' (2008) was painted in grey in and yellow like this, that took me 6 8-hour days to paint, and this of a similar size (less complexity certainly) took 6 hours.

It was 24 to 26 degrees in my room as I painted, at the start of week forecast to break heat records. Hot and sunny days makes painting easier, but if it's too hot I can't open the windows, which is not good when working with solvents. It will probably be too hot then to paint tomorrow and for the rest of the week, which will be taken up with deliveries anyway, to Bunbury, collection from Nantwich Museum, and two performance days, on Wednesday and Thursday for the Good Vibrations and Ray Davies Tribute events.

Them And Us, Crushed Are The Weak, ATBAB Studies

Today, drew out a new large painting as planned 'Crushed Are The Weak', which (in my old ideas book) was titled 'The Weak Always Get Crushed'. I didn't noticed the cliffs until I'd draw it out, to me these were the White Cliffs of Dover, which has given the painting a refugee theme; certainly one about England. The colours here are difficult as the painting has few defined borders or real-world 'objects', it's something like a miasma of shapes, like a swirl of papers blowing in a storm. It reminds me of later Picasso or Basquiat. I'm reminded that when the mood is ugly, the painting, it's delicacy and coloration, should look as beautiful as possible.

I painted a second colour study for 'All Things Bright And Beautiful', which on the face of it looks very like the first version:

I needed to resolve the horizon. In the centre, light orange, but dark on the right, which looks better, more dramatic. The narrative actually changes as we look along the horizon. The red sun we see first, then look left to the sunset and dandelions, then right at the rusty swing of the end-of-leg. I was also unsure about the foreground floor, which was almost flesh-like in the first version, but looks better green; dark yellow here. The greyer flesh works better too. In my mind the colours are H. R. Giger's, cyan greys. I keep thinking that it might be better to underpaint in greys, something I haven't done in many years. This will have the decayed, romantic beauty of a moonlit graveyard.

The third study was the colour study for 'Them And Us'. This is all pinks, with yellow lights, and yellow and black for green darks.

How brilliant my paintings are at the moment. How brilliant my unappreciated genius. How short life is. I must make stoic plans to paint these. I had planned four in this group but may start on these three instead. The fourth, 'All The Broken Hearted' would be third in a sequence of heart-break paintings after 'Cracked Planet' and 'So, How Have You Been?'. This is a big project, a big series. Would it have commercial appeal? Artistic appeal, certainly. Appeal for fine art collectors, of course. I'd need somewhere to show it, something to do with it, and a triptych of large paintings can be severely limited in where I can submit them.

Pat Benatar Glazing, Beam Piper, and All Things Study

Last night, a nightmare. I was gifted two brass figures of monk-like jews in cloaks, one had a wavy beard as a father, one without as a son, I initially confused the two until I saw the beard. I put them on the mantelpiece then noticed a caterpillar, striped like a yellowjacket wasp, inject one with an ovipositor, ultimately to kill the figure with a parasite. I covered the insect with a sheet of paper to trap it. The insect changed into a wasp, then a beetle, growing, and becoming stronger as I tried to trap it by folding the edges of the paper. It tried to escape but I managed to trap it by rapidly folding and crimping the paper edges. It was a large beetle, still visible through the paper, still yellow and black striped. I showed it to someone present but it burst through the paper, now a huge hornet, 25 or 50cm long. I dropped the paper and tried to step on it. It transformed into a giant millipede, still growing, and managed to crush it though it was a 30cm long and very fat. It lay broken into skeletal parts. I said that I wouldn't be surprised if it came back to life.

I awoke to a day of painting in the 24 degree heat.

First, glazing 'Sisyphus Rolling A Coconut Dangerously Towards The Critical Mass Of Pat Benatar':

Work was slow but the results were very good. Then glazing another layer on the H Beam Piper painting. The storm part in particular needed some smoothing, and there was slight damage to the top right corner due to trying to glaze last time while the surface was semi-dry. Both things were easily done and to good effect.

I was reminded of several things. First, that Dali wrote something about the coefficients of viscosity never being the same twice when painting. So true. Some hair strokes of Pat Benatar were hard and laboured, some dreamlike and perfect. The same was true of the fine details of the storm near the black hole of H Beam Piper. I was then reminded of Dali's mention of Venetian Turpentine (a resin) for these upper layers. I've not tried this. Resins seem to offer a good solution to fat over lean while increasing fluidity. My next experiment will be using Laropal A81 dissolved in Spike Lavender Oil, but this process seems to take months. In a way, this itself is a good thing. Such a resin should be difficult to dissolve to be useful.

I was also reminded today of a quote by Jan Swafford, that the reality of life for most artists is art or death. A non-artist can't understand this, there is no third option. Artists must, by compulsion, make art all of the time, perhaps because they recognise the speed of life, that we'll die anyway; why work, retire, and die, when we can make a mark or cry at the void then die with greater satisfaction?

One last painting job was a colour study for 'All Things Bright And Beautiful', a strange painting which I like more and more. It's already powerful and strange. There are various challenges in tone and colour. There's a sun, which I'd normally paint light yellow, certainly bright, but here I felt it needed to be red. I was reminded, another reminder, that in a painting, reality is relative, that what is light, dark, cold, warm in reality is different in a painting. Contrast and balance are more important.

Art Photography Stands Complete, Ugly Ducklings Become Swans

I built a flatbed guide to align the towers yesterday, and set a 3mm piece of MDF in the centre to accommodate the uneven wood bottom, to make the L-plates the main support.

The towers were laid along the line and the L-plates glued to their sides in exactly the right place. Once the glue had set, after 10-mins, these were drilled and screwed firmly. Today, testing. The existing rivnuts on the bases generally fit, some better than others, but enough that I didn't have to make adjustments, all good. The towers are now very accurate in height and verticality. For towers 1175mm tall, they're so close that any tiny movements due to stepping nearby or touching them is bigger than the difference between them. Without a new room with a flat concrete floor, this is as good as I can get.

Then, setting up and testing the camera alignment. Cheeseplates were again fitted, first using one loose screw as a pivot, the camera set between them on the steel rods. The screw was gradually tightened as the alignment got better, then the tilt checked with a spirit level, and the screw moved to tilt the plate just fractionally. Eventually things were set correctly. The final calibration was on the main camera shoe, the step I'd neglected yesterday. After this, all was set. The cheeseplates were fixed down with hot-melt glue, and when it was set, screwed to lock them in the exact place. A final test of the resolution and alignment:

This gives a resolution of 331.845dpi, to the 1.25mm thick ruler. The resolution will be higher for thicker objects (paintings on 3mm or 6mm board, or 10 to 20mm deep for canvas). This is good. Not too high, as the image files would be too large. I'd aimed for 300dpi plus 10%.

The project has cost me £94.12 in new buys, £146.74 if I include the Smallrig parts (some I had previously bought), and more still if I include the many rivnuts and the few bolts needed. This is double what I'd anticipated, and it's taken 4.5 days, longer than hoped, but this should speed up and simplify my art photography, particularly for larger works. One reason I'd avoided painting larger is that it was hellishly difficult and stressful to photograph them. I'm amazed that the old flimsy tripods ever managed to take an accurate multi-part photo of my paintings. Perhaps they rarely did, it's just that such inaccuracy is tolerable for most people.

So, this improved rig is a necessary step forwards for my art. One of my tenets is that any short-term effort to improve things by 1% is worth it. Spending £100 or £500 to improve your art by 1% is worth it. Over time those 1% values will add up, pushing you beyond those artists who didn't invest in those 1% improvements. The tortoise betters the hare, ugly ducklings become swans drip by tiny drip.

Stands v2 and v3

A lot of engineering is doing things in the right order, but sometimes you don't know the right order until it's too late. Yesterday I took off the cheeseplates with the aim of resetting them in the correct place. A first levelling test this morning revealed than one tower was leaning 14mm to its right, this explains the 14mm skew I experienced when first testing.

I decided to ignore this, and simply shift it 14mm left when using it. The flatness and angle of the top will be set later, so the lean should not matter beyond this. I set it up, but the skew remained. Either the orientation was flat with a sideways drift as I slid forwards, or the orientation was at an angle with no drift. The drift was small, about 30mm, but annoying, there should be none! I fixed it in place, knowing that it's not a serious problem, though a painting that might just fit may slide out of the correct view.

Then I thought it might be the camera, not my stands, and sure enough the so-called 90-degree steel L-plate on the camera was not at 90-degrees. There are adjustment screws on the base and one was loose; the camera was twisted anti-clockwise, which explained everything. If I'd realised this before attaching the cheeseplates I could have fixed it and would have left things.

But the 14mm lean AND this skew problem were too annoying to ignore, and I knew I'd end up starting again from scratch as I've done with countless projects, countless paintings. If it's not right, I must fix or start again. I'm not a perfectionist but I have a low tolerance for imperfections. So, I began to effectively make stand v3.

This afternoon I scraped off the hot-melt glue from the cheeseplates and removed the L-plates from the towers. These were really strongly welded on by the superglue, unexpectedly so. The L-plates are caked in glue and wood fragments, I'd have to dunk them in a lot of paint remover to clean them. At £6 each, it's easier to buy more, so I'll do that. The towers are scarred but it's superficial not structural. I'll invert the towers, use the top as the bottom to restart the setting process.

One step is to make a guide, from 18mm MDF, with a 1M guide line and 90-degree flat base in the right place, to place and set the towers exactly vertically. This is now complete.

This two-day job will take a week, but this is part of an iterative design process. Build, expect errors and lessons, rebuild, etc.

Photography Stands Part 2

A busy couple of days working on the photography stands. My solution to fixing the cheeseplates to the towers was to use hot melt glue. This was a tad nightmarish, as hot melt glue tends to set instantly when touching the cold metal, but after 2 attempts on Tower A, and 3 on Tower B, scraping off in between, the two were fitted closely enough, certainly under 1mm height difference. Once initially stuck, I filled the little oval lakes with glue, then screwed them flat.

After that, fixing the L-brackets to the footplates, which was a matter of lining up the towers, which stood well by themselves. Everything was accurate, so I glued the L-plates to the sides with superglue first, and 10-mins later laid them down, drilled and screwed, so these were exactly in the correct place.

Here's the tower top, with 15mm tube holders.

I didn't consider at first that the footplates will need to be removable. There's no way I could store these huge things when assembled, and they're rarely needed, so a next step was drilling the footplates (by hand) and fitting M4 rivnuts so that I can bolt and un-bolt the towers to the bases. After drilling 4 per side, only about 2 each side were accurate enough - these have be be very accurate, much more than 1mm. 2 out of 4 is fine, but in retrospect I could have done this better. I managed to fix one fairly easily, by removing it, drilling the hole bigger, inserting the rivnut edged with thick superglue, then assembling the top. The glue takes a few mins to set, allowing me to bolt it together and allow it to set in the exact correct place.

Today, testing. It's already a lot easier than the tripods, but they are not quite perfectly lined up, which in retrospect should have been expected. Lining these up to be straight over the lengths of a metre-or-so would be nigh on impossible by hand. The solution is to permit calibration. This pair are always used in tandem. It seems that a twist of 14mm on the 600mm width will set them just about right (to about -/+1mm on the 840mm length). It doesn't actually matter that much anyway, the skew would mean a similar skew on the photographed paintings, but still, it would be nice to get things as good as I can manage.

My plan is to fit another accurately glued rivnut, M6 this time, on the front right edge of the footplate. This will fit a rounded-headed bolt to be screwed in or out to calibrate perfectly. Once done, it will probably never need touching.

Art Photography Stands Begin

Bought some wood today to make new stands for the rails for my art photography. I have a conundrum. I had 6 lengths cut, 95mm wide by 1147mm long, from 18mm deep MDF. These 6 pieces had to be cut from two pieces of MDF, so the 1147 length was about 1mm out for two of the lengths (numbers 2 and 5 in the picture; I chose these as the central plank). Each width isn't perfect but this is less important. The length needs to be as accurate as possible. I've glued them together to make 2 bunches of 3. Here is the end:

This, ideally, should be completely flat. I need to work out the best way to do this. If I had a band saw or table circular saw (or table anything) this would be easy, or much easier, but I haven't. I could use a router, but 72x95mm is a big edge, I have no router bits 72 or 95mm long (the depth in the view above is 95mm). I wondered about fitting a cutting drill to the router. I could sand it flat, but would ideally need a right-angle sanding table. My drum sander is best at removing wood but is hand-held, like all of my sanders. Alternatively, I could saw it by hand somehow. The jigsaw should be deep enough. A hand cut would probably be more accurate than the current edge, but not perfect, and it might be less accurate. The 1mm tolerance there now might be enough.

Alternatively I could cut it shorter and glue a flat piece accurately on top, using a gap filling plaster-type glue. I'd need to experiment again with glues. I've had some good results from wood glue and chalk to make a thick glue; but I'd have to do this separately for each of the two stands (the two groups of three) so that itself might make the results less accurate than they are now; it's most important that they are the same, the exact height isn't so important.

Stockport, Hedge and More, Hockney

Two busy days. Yesterday, a physically demanding day dropping off artwork to Stockport. I booked an Open Off-Peak Return train ticket for the 11:10 before realising that the gallery didn't open until 13:00, so we decided to take the 12:10; yet at 10:24 I thought that perhaps the taking the 11:10 was an essential ticket requirement and panicked that we wouldn't be allowed on the 12:10, so I dashed the mile to to railway station to at least collect the tickets before the trip. I had to pay £4 extra for real tickets rather than 'e-tickets' on the smartphone I don't have; another premium. I made it back for 11:10 after a near-run there and back, then had to rapidly eat, wash and pack before departing at 11:40 for the 12:10. We made it, and the trip went without a hitch.

After the drop-off we wandered around Stockport for a couple of hours. This became exhausting, I'd forgotten that the town was so mountainous. We explored a few shops in unexpected summer heat, then dashed for the 15:04 train (which, like the outgoing train, was late) and home, buying things to cook and eat on the way. After the meal, Deb re-potted some plants, and ultimately the hours flew.

Today started by a big job of an annual trim of the garden hedge, re-packaging new heavy-duty staples (which involved heat and solvent, they're so badly packaged), wrapping presents for my brother's birthday, repainting a porcelain statue which I'd accidentally broken. The glued parts have set well but there are two tiny fragments missing. Not yet any other work done.

I heard that David Hockey died. I guess that Francis Bacon, David Hockney, and Lucien Freud were three key artists of British mid-20th century art, in that order with Bacon the shining star. After that Gormley, Kapoor, and the YBA's but these are the next generation. I also discovered that our 11:10 train was over 45 minutes late anyway, so all the better to skip that.

Kafka Glazing Complete, Art Photography

Second day of Kafka glazing yesterday.

Today started with art photography of three new paintings: 'Song Of Innocence', 'Love And Fragility In The Age Of Perfection', and 'The Blood Of Winter'. Setting up lights and the camera track took over an hour, and photography, digital stitching and disassembly of the rig took until 13:00. Then framing 'Song Of Innocence' for the Stockport Open drop-off tomorrow. Thus the day has flown on these small but important tasks.

I modified the lights a bit today, repairing one light and naming each leg for each position, as some stick or don't work in some positions. The tripods are the most complex and awkward part of the photography set up, each has a swivel head and the pair need perfect parallel alignment at an exact height. There's no need for adjustment of the height, so a fixed wooden post would do the job far more easily, so my next job is to build this. While photographing today I experimented with height adjustments for 300dpi, and this can be improved. The resolution before was nearly 400dpi, making the photographs large to process, and requiring more segments than needed. I'll aim for 330dpi.

Glazing Kafka

First day of glazing the Kafka portrait.

John Deaconitis, All Things Bright And Beautiful Plans

Felt a little lost yesterday and over the weekend, darting from one thing to another in an unconstructive way. This was partly due to the circumstance of needing to visit Cotebrook on three consecutive days, that plus charging into developing 12 paintings at once, and aiming to write bits of my book - scattergun plans.

Last night I listened to my latest music purchase, Queen's The Miracle, an album which was (when it was released) our first CD purchase for our new and amazing CD player when I was 16 years old. Oddly, my memory of this event takes place in our old house in Culland Street, even though we left there in 1985 or so. Anyway, I've had Queen's albums up to The Game for years, but have recently decided to buy the rest as a reward for different milestones. I've bought the Deluxe Version, which comes in rubbishy cardboard packaging which went immediately into the bin; but the music is brilliant, especially the second CD. I didn't like the album much in the 1980s, but now I love it.

Last night I sang along, and have even jammed along on guitar, which is always great fun. At night though, I fell into a despair, and today too.

Today I think this is a new disease: John Deaconitis. I used to think that John, the so-called 'quiet member' of the band, somehow let the band down by leaving Brian and Roger to tirelessly (in every sense) perform and promote Queen since Freddie Mercury's death. Queen are uniquely a band with a fixed canon (we must discount the Queen and Paul Rodgers album); and Brian and Roger have promoted their legacy and performed their past works for longer, now, than the band itself was active.

John wrote 'I Want To Break Free', and I felt this was a not-so-hidden message. I suddenly felt that he was the most emotional member of the band, perhaps the most fragile. I thought of Anthony Phillips, the original guitarist from Genesis who couldn't cope with the pressure of being in a band and quit after one or two gigs. I, with Deaconitis, was hit again with the devastation of Freddie Mercury's death, and suddenly felt unable to continue in art. I thought of the desperate quest for financial security, which is an ever-present trap for art; nobody is secure, the engine of success is to charge forwards aflame. For an artist, art or death must be the only options, and only in death can an artist succeed.

In the morning I wrote a few more words to my oil painting book, then investigated plans for making some new stands for art photography, though these were distractions from my main plans of painting; these unwelcome distractions due to my searching brain. Then, at last, I felt cured and started to work on one of the new painting ideas. One way to limit being overwhelmed is to plan works in group of 4. Here's the original idea:

The painting is as much a mood as anything, perhaps a quest for love or recognition. I expanded this a little, using a dandelion as a visual theme. Now the figure in repose, perhaps like the woman in The Untouchable Strawberry, is a monolith and monument. I changed the title to 'All Things Bright And Beautiful'.

In my mind, it's a funerary monument, yet organic and beset with weeds, a monument to art. It's not so much personal as heroic and romantic. I'll complete the drawing transfer this evening. Tomorrow I aim to paint Kafka. Onwards we charge.

Deserted Party Dream, Cotebrook Collection

I dreamt of a party. It was night, downstairs in a house somewhat like this one. My parents were present, and I think Deborah. I was looking at a picture frame, examining the gold and dusted edge, a finish like the God Being Killed frame from Cotebrook. Derren Brown arrived and wanted to show us a trick. I went upstairs to drop off the frame, my mind focused on my art work. I came down to find the house dark and empty, I was alone. In distress I searched and cried for the others to no avail. I'd never felt so alone.

The dream woke me for many hours, hunger was perhaps a factor as I'd eaten perhaps 1000 calories yesterday due to strange food times. Slept accidentally until late and woke feeling exhausted, a feeling which persisted for most of the day.

I followed Mark Eaton on Instagram, an oil painter and excellent portrait artist whom I met at the Cotebrook opening. Wrote a few hundred words of my painting book, and prepared the frame for the Claire Luce portrait, which I must photograph before Friday. Then, the trip to Cotebrook to collect my paintings. I felt that my work stood out but my works had no response from public votes; this is normal.

Discounting speaking with my darling Deborah, I perhaps speak more words when singing on my albums than I speak to most humans in other ways in a typical year. I've had more social, more isolated times; and recent years have been the latter. I noted that we've had no Fall in Green performances or engagements so far in 2026.

This evening, working on a painting drawing. Only after the meal at 17:30 do I have any energy.

Onwards we roll our heavy rock. Nature's sun welcomes us, a new day of art beckons.

Art Choices, Cotebrook Drop

Spent much of yesterday checking competition dates and organising. I may enter the Stockport Open next week, and checked my RWA entries. I didn't enter the RWA last year, so I could enter those planned pieces this year (only on my first attempt in 2016 did I have a painting selected for the RWA; 10 years, I tried again in 2017, 2018, 2023, 2024).

Wrote about brushes in my How to Paint book in the afternoon, before the drop-off to Cotebrook Village Hall near Tarporley, of which the launch is later today.

Also scanned many painting ideas which I thought were good, that deserved to be painted. Idea after idea seem brilliant, deserving of being seen, being painted. Almost tearful at them and the huge lack of visibility for these. I sized the ideas and marked the paper. I needed criteria of which to paint. Many are distinctively mine, many have pathos - these are two key criteria; but what will be their destination? Most of my art over the years has simply say here, unseen or rarely seen. I enter competitions and exhibitions, and now have a gallery to sell works, but much of my work isn't commercial in the decorative sense. Some would suit museums, the Kafka portrait for the Kafka Museum, 'Self Inspection At Theresienstadt' for the Jewish Museum, or in Israel, with Fritta's. The Dadd painting should be in the Tate; yet most of my work would really need a Mark Sheeky Museum because it barely fits anywhere else.

I can charge into painting, I can paint faster than ever, and this year my plans are for larger paintings. This means that each painting takes longer, costs more in materials and resources, and takes up more storage space, but large works are more easily sold and more impressive in any event, so perhaps larger is better, except that it limits quantity of art because larger paintings take more time.

It's interesting that my work largely emulates Dali's in size; a huge variety from tiny to large, though I rarely paint over 1M (The Invisible Woman is 69x120, Revelation 120x74). Most competitions now limit size to under 1M, and these are hard to show or transport anywhere. The new gallery will be my first chance in years to show and sell these large works. Revelation, for example, is unframed and have only been shown for one day during our first Fall in Green performance, 14 Jul 2017

Benatar Layer, Song Of Innocence Glazing

Hopes to glaze the Pat Benatar painting today, but the eyes needed adjustment, so did with a secondary opaque layer, a post-underpainting.

Then added a second glaze layer (and the signature) to the simple portrait of beauty 'Song of Innocence'. I rarely add more than one glaze layer, but I felt that this painting, destined to be and be defined by its smoothness, would benefit from another glaze. No quicker was the brilliant glaze finished than it looked again unstarted. So it is with glazing. The painting looks rough, glazing makes it smooth, and at the end seems to look no better; an illusion, the smoothness and colour changes become homogenised in your eye's psyche. This is, so far, my most Mona Lisa of paintings. Prettier than any, smoother than any.

The Daisy and Kafka paintings (and now Benatar) are the only ones left to glaze, so new ideas are needed. But what? I have too many, each with different appeal, and crucially none appeal more than others. Prize-winning appeal is different from commercial sale appeal, and 'artistic' power, for for certain types of contemporary art prize, is often totally uncommercial, and may not win a prize either. Personal delight or personal solace in an idea is different too. Are we making a point, sending a message; or merely making something pretty, or interesting?

How To Paint Book, Banana Surprise Glazing, Love And Fragility Complete

Spent most of yesterday working on my 'How to Paint' book, which is already my biggest book in word-count and it doesn't feel so much as half written. There are many issues, chiefly the overall structure and adding more personality and verve over the dry technical points. It is ultimately a technical manual, but needs more than this, it needs to inspire more than inform. I realised, when writing, that this era of free and instant access to technically correct information makes personality and opinion much more important than mere fact. Perhaps this is why opinion is valued; it's the humanity among the dry data. The phenomenon of Populism is the worship of opinion over academic fact; perhaps this is why.

My painting has technically improved a lot this year, partly due to the analysis in this book. My own book has helped codify elements which were before esoteric.

Most of the today was too slow and too tired. I awoke after a long sleep of many dreams. It took hours to feel awake, and at 16:50, I still feel half dazed. Despite this I pushed on with painting and have glazed 'Beware Of The Banana Surprise', and then a glazing of the new ear and neckline of the male figure in 'Love And Fragility In The Age Of Perfection'. The neck and ear were, before this, poor in tone and finish but now almost stand out as the best part of the painting. If there is an error to correct the key steps are wait for everything to dry, then glaze with opaque underpainting colours, then re-glaze. This worked on The Starcrossed Escape too.

H Beam Piper Glazing 2, Art Filing, New Canvas Stretching Method

Second and final day of glazing the H Beam Piper portrait yesterday, but I'm unhappy with some aspects and will consider options. Much of the afternoon was spent re-organising my art catalogue, ensuring that I have an image filed correctly for as much as possible, and a shortcut image for everything that does have an image. A few artworks have no images, when I have the artwork and am able to add one, so I scanned and added a few of these. This is still the case for some artworks, mostly for sculptures and items I've filed as artworks, like my piano stand or router table, which aren't really artworks, but still need documenting, to learn from.

Backups today, and singing training. This afternoon, stretched a canvas with a new method.

These metal clamps grip the canvas lip at each opposite, then I pull the canvas taut with the Irwin bar clamp. The canvas is then held taut, so I staple each end. This is a very slow process, two opposite staples at a time, creeping from the canvas centre to the edge on alternating sides, but it's much better than the exhausting attempts at gripping this slippery canvas with pliers, and trying to staple with one hand while holding the tension with the other. This method also centres the tension correctly, as both sides are held taut before stapling.

One 24x34 inch canvas, the same size at the Mechanauts, has just taken me 90 minutes to stretch in this way, and it was still very tiring, as each clamp needed to be screwed (and released) very tightly, but the results are excellent, better than I've ever achieved before; and this method is more foolproof, a procedure that doesn't require trained skills or strength. With everything I do I think, how can I do it better? Only by asking this can things actually become better.

I have another canvas to stretch, but I'm out of 10mm staples, so must wait.

H Beam Piper Glazing Day 1, Replacement Cap For Blockx Oil Paints

Painting today. Day 1 of glazing the H Beam Piper Portrait. Hard to believe the underpainting was on 26th of April. I was looking forward to this glaze. It went well, although there are still several technical aspects of the painting I'm unhappy with, but will learn. He certainly has a 1950s look, and I keep being reminded of Tamara de Lempicka's chemist portrait.

Two of my Blockx oil paints have split caps so I decided to try and make a replacement using Polymorph. I heated up 2.43g and formed the transparent grains into a line, then dabbed them dry them before spiralling this hot snake around the cleaned tube thread, then formed the top into a 'T' shape. It seems to work, now cool I can see that the thread has been cast in this plastic. The shape is instantly better than the tops the oils come with.

I can't be sure if my caps are sufficiently air tight without a long wait. As an alternative, I clamped the split cap and filled its rim with hot-melt glue to effectively fix the old cap too. I rather prefer my new T-top design though, so will give this a try first.

Art Filing

Bah to a long day of feeling like I've hardly done a thing! Started by releasing War And Nuclear Love on Bandcamp.

Much of the work of the day was going through my full art catalogue to check that I have sample images of every artwork. I have a folder for each artwork which contains the full scan and all of the necessary materials used during creating it, but also a second folder with big thumbnails, images of every artwork for quick access. This doesn't have all of the artworks however, and there are a few, like colour variations or deleted works that weren't in my artwork spreadsheet either, so have done a lot of work today tidying and correcting this. This will ultimately, one day, assist in large scale batch conversion of my artwork; if this is ever needed.

The filing tasks are endless, but I must aspire to creating actual art.

Gallery Admin, Loneliness Of The Sun

A third hot and sleepless night. Spent a long morning documenting the 14 works delivered to the gallery yesterday, typing up long descriptions, filing these with the art, the updating the relevant website pages.

The visit inspired me to paint large, and I one idea is to enlarge some of the small paintings which have been proven to work. I rather like the recent 'Loneliness Of The Sun', and I thought that blowing it up to the same size as 'Imagining Happiness' would be ideal, as both works are similar; a simple mood with a monolith. I noted that Happiness is the same size as 'Triumph of the Mechanauts', 24x34 inches, and by chance I have stretchers ready for that size, so in the hot afternoon cut a canvas for that, and, by a happy coincidence of the width of canvas roll, cut a second piece for the other (large) stretcher I have (30x44). After that I'll have four large surfaces prepared and ready.

A scant few things done for a long day. I ache to charge into something more substantial. The heat is still sapping; 25.1 degrees in here as I write.