Preliminary Sketch

It's been two months now since I left work to become a painter. It may have been a foolish decision, time will tell, but it was something that I had to do. With any luck conviction, enthusiasm, and a highly developed sense of humour should see me through.

I started painting in oils when I was seventeen, and at once fell in love. The colours, the texture, the plasticity, the smell even, gripped my imagination. I developed a love of van Gogh early on, and tried to emulate his style and passion; wiping my brush on the clothes that I was wearing (rather than rinsing them with turps) so as to keep up with the flow of inspiration. The colours may have suffered a little as a result - I may have even invented a few new browns - but my passion and eagerness to learn earned me the respect of my teachers, and a few good grades.

Unfortunately that was the end of my official training. At university I chose a more academic subject for the sake of the "Real World", and my output dwindled. With the lack of instruction and guidance, uncertainty and a fear of failure grew rapidly, and the paint brush was left neglected for ever longer periods of time.

After a string of brief and unsatisfying jobs I found work in an art materials shop in north London, and for the last four years it has been like an art school for me. It was an Aladdin's Cave of colour and canvas run by a team of young and impassioned artists. From them I began to learn the practical side of painting. At school the only preparation required was a coat or two of linseed oil and turps on a sheet of parcel paper, now I was learning about the different types of canvas, how to stretch them over the bars, how to prepare them for painting - the smell of rabbit skin glue! - and how to build the picture with ever fatter layers of paint. Needless to say in an environment such as this my love of painting began to warm again, and I tentatively returned to my easel.

My confidence grew after exhibiting in two staff shows, and winning first prize in a company competition, but finding a place to work, and the time to work in, proved more difficult. I managed to turn out the occassional canvas over the years, but my frustration and shame at not producing more became unbearable, and I recently took the plunge. The voice of reason is still protesting in my head, but I am not prepared to go to my grave quietly muttering to myself, "what if?"

This blog will chart the stumbles, falls and successes on my road to becoming a professional artist. Any constructive criticism, advice, or suggestions would be very welcome, as would your thoughts about art in general, and news about your own work.

I hope you enjoy it.

Stephan Fullagar