Counterpoint

I approached the day's work with some trepidation. When I arrived, all the drawings seemed disjointed. Each one fitting its frame, few spilling over into the unknown void beyond the edges of the page. Each seemed to make its own statement, unrelated to the next. And there was still some sense of a missing gravity - the drawings, while meditative and sincere, were all - with the possible dramatic exception of the sandals - gentle and quiet. A collection needs more light and shade between the works. I felt they needed a subtle counterpoint. Something in the same vein, but with an edge of something... darker.

I felt very sure that the answer lay in the beat-up little cocktail umbrella. As an object, it has given me so much excitement. I feel I understand a lot of complex things from it. About myself, about celebrating and fighting, about beauty, endeavour, stoicism and vulnerability. Amongst other things.

There was life in the studios - voices and movement, laughter. I chatted with Yong, a young Korean man next door to me, who is trying to establish a studio soccer team. When he expressed interest in my work, I invited him into my studio. After making positive noises abut my drawings, he exclaimed at my Chinese brushes, telling me his father, at 70, is studying calligraphy at University. Yong's father, born too poor to attend school, is a self-made businessman, and commenced academic study at the age of sixty. Yong told me (with pride, I think) that his father failed many, many times, before finally being accepted into University.

I felt heartened by the encounter.

I spent a bit of time cropping and rearranging the existing drawings - curating them - until they seemed more connected. Then I began drawing the little parasol - but this time, large.

I liked it from the first minute.
Loose and calligraphic, it was pure joy to make and pleasing to look at. It has remained very satisfying, and although I still have quite a bit to do, I think it will be a good work. Already it has brought balance to the collection as a whole. It feels like an anchor - how odd for a parasol!