Most of my work is made by using Pelikan black ink, or black line, but increasingly I’ve wanted to work in pure colour, even using simple blocks of colour. I love writing, the physical action of drawing words as well as their meaning, so words creep in whether I like it or not. These kind of relate to a work in progress, a mystery memoir. I have synaesthesia to a certain degree, so the colours are additional sounds to me and, I hope to an onlooker.
Sometimes I’ve written across the previous shapes, thinking about the ways writers in the past used every available space on the paper for economic reasons. I also have childhood memories of asking my mother questions who, rather than answer directly, would ‘ask’ her family Bible for answers by letting it fall open at certain (pre-designated) places. Very frustrating for a child but even at the time I had to admire her responsibility avoidance strategy. Are these ‘messages’? Will I finish my long on-going work-in-progress?