For twenty years I've said what I had to say in paint. A canvas doesn't argue back; it just asks you to keep looking. But lately I've felt the pull to set some of it down in words too — the thinking that happens before the brush, and the quieter things that happen after.
So this is a beginning. Not a manifesto, and not a schedule I intend to keep religiously. Just a place to write when a piece of work, a book, or an ordinary afternoon in the studio leaves me with something worth turning over.
What you'll find here
Essays, mostly. Some will be about the practical grain of the work — a medium that misbehaved, a commission that taught me something, the slow business of making a living as an artist in Pretoria. Others will wander further afield.
A painting is finished when it stops asking questions. An essay, I'm learning, is finished when you run out of honest ones.
If you'd like to follow along, there's an RSS feed — point your reader at it and new pieces will arrive on their own. No newsletter, no account, no algorithm deciding what you see.
Thanks for reading. More soon.