Rainbow 1

The last three weeks, I'd spent drawing and sketching, part of a broader project, As it is/Might be about a house. I hadn't painted. The plan was to carry on drawing, sketching out the grounds of the house as they might be, re-imagined. I'm also working on a drawing, a map to illustrate the stages of a book I'm collaborating on with my artist partner. The day before, looking out of my living room window through the trees to the house, I was overcome by an urge. I need to paint. I'll paint tomorrow. The project will take care of itself. I need to feel paint on paper and see shapes form and colours light.

I felt different. Normally, I paint in a self-conscious way, with a voice in my head, thinking what will so and so make of this. I loved the colourful grounding. I decided on this after looking for several minutes at the photograph I was working from. It then got better and worse in places. I had a plan in my head. Weeping silver birch was central, followed by other trees, then terraced housing, sky and, finally, rainbow. I was simply enjoying myself. I thought of one of my heroes, Alfred Wallis.

Shapes formed. I gave an impression of a window, I didn't draw them. And the results are surprisingly interesting. For me, with an interest in folk tales, I see owl eyes and faces in the backs of the houses. The rainbow of the photo is thinner. I wanted a big, colourful rainbow across the sky. The day, a bank holiday, was dreadful outside. Cold, wet and raining hard. Wind taking the trees' branches away. I wanted something cheering. I wanted child's play. I wanted just to paint without seeking to please anyone. And I did!