I have a postcard of this painting on my desk. Its dramatic use of the medium (oils) appeals to me: stormy but with turbulent light pushing and pulsing. John Constable painted ‘Rainstorm Over the Sea’ between 1824-1828 from swift sketches he did on Brighton beach. I like to think of the artist resting his sketchpad on his knee, making one sketch after another, keeping the moments side by side. If he chose one, it didn’t mean he would discard the others. They all added up to a whole. Of course he got better at his practice. Or art? Or practice as art.Whatever, I’m interested in art, and poetry, as ways of knowing.
I’m sitting in Leicester, have driven from here there on a wild wet gusting night, yet was mindful of being away from the worst of recent storms that have caused so much flooding in the north of England. Controversies over skewed priorities and inadequate precautions continue in various media while communities rally to alleviate damage caused by ways of knowing no-one could possibly wish for wish for.
This painting exemplifies my 2015: swathes of umber, even more of titanium white. My poems come like this-in rapid word sketches; no such thing as finished in a notebook, then, sometimes, a few of them make up something bigger, but there’s always the going back, the application of the tiniest dash of crimson.
I may make resolutions, I may not, considering how I rarely keep them.
For now anyway, Happy New Year!