Having slept on the debalce of the portrait1 I fear that my immediate sense of seething resolve has given way to a more non-productive slump of sorts; a heaved sigh at the whole business from which  I still exhale. Predictably enough this has resonated into the space of the studio which is now completely tainted, thick with the atmosphere of rejection and negativity. I'll have to see if anyone in the yard has any smudge sticks.2

Anyhoo, if I squint my inner eye I can see past it well enough but for now the wind that propells our humble little endeavor has died down somewhat so, for a while at least, we'll have to motor on.3

Ill get to it soon with a size four of oranges with the last of the colour I squeezed out yesterday. They say across the atlantic that the juice is worth the squeeze well we'll see. The colour I have been mixing while typing this note is ready and now with loaded brush I close the lid.4

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Well its down and I really used every last drop.  I Had the arrangement bathed in direct sunlight near the gateside window. Six oranges in one of the porcelain fruit bowls that I picked up from St Lukes5. The thing done in thirty minutes, what can one say? Its a study to get back in the habit of painting like 'still life of crabs'6 and you know being forced by little to be frugal has tought me an unexpected; having but a spot of titanium for the bowl the resulting tone was a medium beige, it still however reads as white in the context of the whole! And that even with the untouched canvas white of the surround which testifies to the shortage of colour.  But more importantly and certainly more unexpectedly (considering my mood) I managed to open a stream of thought which takes us a step further out of the labrynth of our postulations regards our rationale of breakage.7 It goes like this; we wish to resist or reject the contemporary by moving past it. Yes yes, and this is not because of a fear or ignorance of contemporary art or by wanting to remain in some abominable conservative haze but because we want to go forward beyond the stasis of the contemporary framework be it critical, artistic or political.  So now, imagine a race where two runners are side by side and look to be racing except one of the runners is a lap ahead of the other. Thats how I make out our endeavor - place one of our plein air oils next to another, be it a by a serious or sunday painter, they look genereally alike, running the same race if you like, but ours is a lap ahead having already gone round the bend of critical contemporary art . Thats us. The Torpoint Art Service is a lap ahead! But to what extent this might be detectable in a work remains up for grabs? I'm just grateful for the notion.

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Again Yours,

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John

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