A Panic Map from my sketchbook in California in 2010
After I’d finished these obsessive little doodles and brought them home I tried a more finished version which didn’t really work (see main picture). I was thinking along the lines of a flat picture with doors opening onto different planes of text and pictures. A little labyrinth of hidden/revealed pleasures. Do we want to know where that track leads? What’s behind that door?
That was from 2010 and I still have a fascination with the intrigue of hidden, half-hidden and odd juxtapositions of stuff. I can’t seem to let go of that combination of detail and scrub as well. I can remember the thrill of seeing Rauschenberg’s silkscreens and not really wondering why I liked them; just being knocked out by that New York City power chord. It was splashy and then detailed and careful. I’ve discovered the great pleasure of creating layers in acrylic paint that are purely optical, but are defined by hints of lines pricked out in gouache underneath another shape. I think I really want everybody to get lost. Is that why art exists? Absolutely. Probably.