I don’t particularly enjoy painting or drawing, but I often experience a drive that requires me to put paint to canvas or pencil to paper. If I had to be pigeon-holed, I guess I’m a painter with a social conscience. Although I was trained as an educator and spent many years teaching, verbal communication was never my forte. I am much more at home with visual concepts.
When confronted with social inequality, abuse of children, exploitation of the poor, snobbery of the privileged, institutional thuggery, marginalisation of minorities - I experience a kind of mental trauma which is relieved to a degree by applying paint to canvas. The images vary from detailed realism to rambling abstraction.
Some of the events that drove me to painting include the scourge of aids, use of drugs in sport, the
murders in Belanglo forest, racial riots at Cronulla, abuse of youths in detention centres, sexual exploitation and abuse of children in religious and secular institutions, and demonisation of refugees fleeing war torn homelands.
Some of my works are completed in an hour or so, others take months or even years to attain some semblance of resolution. When a painting is completed, a residual feeling remains. A feeling that someone else completed the task. Somehow this gives me a certain amount of immunity to criticism or praise.
Perhaps it’s just a controlled release of suppressed schizophrenic tendencies...