The Great Destroyer
I painted this about three or four years ago. The closest I’ve ever come to the dreaded ‘all black’ canvas that all art students of a certain bent are tempted to make at some stage in their development. I have no idea what happened to it, but I suspect I gave it away, as I so often do because for me the great destroyer – psychologically, at least – would be to have hung on to every piece of art I’ve ever made, the aggregate of which would fill several skips. There’s some part of me that feels that by getting the work out there, even if it means leaving it on a bus or posting it to strangers, I am somehow cheating death. Of course, the only way you can do that is to have children and endure in some form through them. Beyond that the vast majority of man’s efforts, from the highest art to the lowest trash will, along with their makers, become nothing more than dust blown on the howling winds of an utterly indifferent universe.