A painting is singular,there is only one of it, each one, irrespective of quality, is unique

 

No painting can be fully reproduced except as an illustration; on the screen or in a book you have the picture, the image, but not the painting 

 

Paintings ultimately resist verbal description, they are not ideas, there is always something beyond

 

A painting is a material thing, an object, a physical presence in the world

 

Paintings develop over real time; where there was nothing there becomes something. 

 

Paintings carry the story of their making with them through the build up of surface layers and pentimenti; difficulties inherent in the activity, the inevitable struggles, revisions, alterations and cancellations all contribute to the finished work

 

Paintings (at least the ones I like) are hand-made by the artist, thus connect to all other human hand-made things both previously and presently

 

Painting continues, and will continue, to persist because of the eyes and hands we have.

 

Paintings are the result of work, of labour

 

Paintings have an organic element to their growth, they are alive, not static 

 

Painting, as with much in life, carries with it the ever present possibility of not succeeding

 

Painting's silent eloquence, although often drowned out ,can act as a corrective to the noisy tumult of everyday modern life

 

Paintings appear to exist seamlessly, as a unified whole in the present moment, paradoxically often in complete contrast to the way they are made. The painting process can sometimes be a painstaking piece by piece affair

 

Paintings are best seen in natural daylight.  We have the freedom to move around, stay as long as we want (and to return to them)

 

Paintings have a compact economy of form; flat, light and (relatively) easily transportable