Despite being entirely process-driven, and therefore perfect for the type of person who likes to plan their work, I am not that person. Printmaking, for me, is an intuitive medium, with the materials almost dictating the image – in fact, when I attempt to consciously create a finished image, it generally fails to please me. Printmaking is also incredibly sensuous – from the delicious sound of an etching needle snicking through hard ground on a metal plate, to the liberating feel of carving linoleum, to the heavenly smell of ink, all of these things contribute to the sensual satisfaction of making prints.
So, paradoxically, given that I prefer to work in a medium rife with rules and hard surfaces and heavy equipment and razor sharp implements and nitric acid for goodness sake, where logic and step-by-step actions should be the sure guide to success, printmaking is the one area of life where I adopt a kind of laissez-faire attitude and let it all just…happen.
The images in this show did just that. They just happened. From a tiny starting point (generally a horizon line), the etchings and relief prints you see here were largely unplanned, dictated by my senses, moods and the materials. Interestingly, allowing images to be created almost purely by instinct led to a lot of big skies and stormy weather. And so that’s the name of the show.
Massive and heartfelt thanks to Centre3 for the opportunity to show my work for the first time (something I never thought I’d do), my parents for their unfailing support, and Robert Creighton for introducing me to printmaking more years ago than I care to mention.