The lightness, the movement, the imprecision of the subject and the brushstrokes. Many of my own paintings have morphed into accidental landscapes, which has prompted me to pay closer attention to landscape paintings (something I have never really done), and to finally have an appreciation of them. I wonder if this has something to do with my age?
In my teens I loved the figure, in my twenties I wandered all over the place in search of defining what I was moved by. In my thirties I embraced the looseness and freedom of non-figurative painting. Into my forties the colour fields beckoned, and now midway through my forties, those fields are becoming actual fields. This is a bit baffling to me. I mean, I like fields and all, but in paintings they have always seemed a bit...meh.
How does this translate into my own work, this drawing closer to the soil thing, this earthy monochromatic tone? The first manifestation was a horizon line. Throw one in there and voila!, it's suddenly a landscape! I'm still unsure of how I sit with that, on a creative level, for now all I know is that I needed that anchor. But I also need the wind.