I have thing about Samuel Palmer, whose luminescent landscapes have enchanted me since I was a kid (well, art student, but I felt and behaved like a kid).  I’ve recently been dragging bits of wood in off the street and painting ‘scapes on them. The process begins with the choice of wood and studying its textures. Then priming with white emulsion and seeing what texture and grain come through.  Lines are drawn, marks are made,  then watered down acrylic paint smeared on with fingers.  Best are digit and middle fingers used at the same time and thinking of the landscape as I work.   This one came from a folded colour supplement photo, so I’ve painted it as a folded page. I like to think of this as a wing over the whole thing. I don’t know where it is, but it reminds me of the Kentish places of my childhood.  The finger rubbing gets down to the wood grain and reveals it. I got a splinter once, then put on a plaster – but it didn’t feel the same, so I waited for it to heal.   The most satisfying part is drawing into it, some pencil,  biro and a scoring tool. The folds makes this one very feminine, maybe erotic.   They say you never finish an artwork, just abandon it.  Not sure with this, but it feels less abandoned than the original lump of wood. If anyone thinks its kitsch, I don’t care.
Jan Woolf

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