My First Nocturne

Last night I had a stressful dream that I cannot fully remember. At one point in the dream I returned home from a walk in the countryside where all sorts of intense things happened. I had to quickly decide what things I would get from home in order to flee some sort of dreaded event. Without hesitation I grabbed a painting (below) and bolted for the front door. In my head the only thing I could ever need from the house was that painting. For some reason I knew that something was imminently going to happen to the house and it would destroy everything inside. As I got to the door I hesitated and tried to fill my arms with as many paintings as possible. Unsurprisingly I ended up dropping them all. I settled again on just the one painting and fled to safety. As I travelled I had more time to think about the painting and why I instinctively chose that one above everything else I owned. This painting means an awful lot to me, that is for sure. It was one of the last paintings I did before coming to university and it sparked an obsession with nocturne painting that carried through to my second year. The subtle tonal changes while nocturne painting and drawing fascinated me. I had for years believed that there wasn’t a lot to paint at nighttime but I was incredibly wrong. In some ways things can become clearer at night, framed by the light of the moon or by unnatural lights. Impossible things begin to happen at night if you stop and look.

Back to the painting! It started a stream of interests that have had a direct bearing on my current work although it is different from what I am doing now. While I painted between 22:30 and 01:30 in mid September of 2017 someone was fishing on the rocks in front of me, too far away to make out who it was, the flick of their rod assured me that I wasn’t alone. It was very peaceful as the tide began to turn, the water froze for a minute or two to allow the full reflection of the lights dazzle me. A couple walked by while I was working. The young woman asked her man ‘why can’t you paint’, his gruff and shamed reaction combined with her comment brought a massive smile to my face that carried me through the painting beautifully. I’m sure there’s plenty of things that bloke can do and I can’t.

Before carrying out this painting I spent a few hours earlier in the day sketching out compositions around the area. I chose a lovely spot for this painting and decided that I would return later. It wasn’t until I was there at night that I realised the street lights didn’t quite shine on my easel where I wanted to paint from. So I had to resort to my head torch which creates a huge amour of glare from the wet paint. In short, I could barely see anything as I was working. I had to rely an awful lot on intuition. Because of this I was able to let my judgemental side go and just enjoy the process.

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I decided some time ago that this painting will accompany me through the rest of my life, unless some grievous incident prevents it. There is much more to this painting than I feel free to talk about at the moment but for those of you who know, know.