Well, it’s big and full of colour. Rather like life itself I guess? Brace yourself. It’s about to get interesting. Take a deep breath and sit back. A little over-dramatic perhaps? Maybe you should read the description then decide!
300cm x 130cm (118″ x 51″)
What the hell is it all about?
How we begin to work any of this out is beyond me at the best of times. And as I grow in years so does my desire to have more time to work it out. Sometimes I wish the world would be kinder to itself. Sometimes I wish that a day could go on forever.
When the sun beats down upon my face, when the first flakes of snow begin to fall, when I feel loved or when I feel blissful – these are the perfect moments that thread together to form our lives. There are billions of them and they all mean something different to each of us.
So how often do we remember the less than perfect times? Do we hold on to these like a glue that binds the good ones together? I do. In many ways it’s probably the only coping mechanism I posses that actually works.
How often do we look for the good during the sad times, the down times, the unhappy and less-than-ideal-times. Do you look for positives or embrace the fact that this is how things go sometimes.
That extremes, not of our making, need to be experienced to live a life that has been worth something? I believe they are necessary. I believe they give us a heightened appreciation for the better things.
It wasn’t my intention to get deep in an attempt to describe a painting but, like everything I do, it has context. So thank you for getting through the heavy bit.
The words I have used so far are not meant to be a reflection of a painting that is less than perfect – I don’t think you can ever really level that kind of critique on a piece of art because of it being so subjective; besides, being able to define what perfect is is impossible right?
No, the whole point of me getting all Freudian is to illustrate one thing – that it’s a worthwhile pursuit to search out the beautiful in the things that aren’t quite right; the oddities, the round pegs in square holes – that kind of thing.
I certainly don’t want a life that’s easy or made up of straight lines. I want a life that sends me in all kinds of directions, challenges me to use my brain and allows me to experience the less than perfect things as well as the perfect ones.
If I can develop an appreciation for these events as I grow older I am hopeful of being able to expand my ability to love the lows as well as the highs. I want to appreciate the experiences that aren’t as wonderful as well as the ones that are and to look for the amazing in the ordinary and the flawed.
I am beginning to realise that this gives me a deeper sense of humanity. I also choose to share this feeling with you and that in itself is open to all kinds of opinion. Maybe that’s exactly the example I was looking for to demonstrate this principle of Beautiful Imperfection.
I will learn to appreciate the person that calls me a wanker as much as the one that says ‘Well done!’
If I am to reflect all this talk in the execution of this painting it would be to simply say that you should make up your own mind about it. Is this a bit of a cop out I hear you ask? Maybe.
But think of it this way. If I see a steam liner from the 1870’s then you’ll probably see a rainbow or a wizard or construction cranes or a sunset or a place you went to as a kid.
So who am I to offer anything other than the opportunity to stop and stare for a minute or two. I hope you can find some enjoyment from the tonal range of colours or from the playfulness between rigid structure and carefree application.
Maybe you’ll see none of the above and flick to another page somewhere. Maybe my Beautiful Imperfection stays with you and maybe it doesn’t.
All I can do is smile and thank you for making it this far with me. And for that my friend, I will always be thankful.
