Yes, a 5 year old could have painted this – but they would likely have done so intuitively and without angst. I think it gets tougher to do this as we age and become burdened by our experience, but I don’t see that as a bad thing. How someone else sees my painting is of course up to them and how I got to paint it is, probably and properly to most, irrelevant.
India IV is an attempt at tension between chaos and order, with neither winning, or at most like a see-sawing game of football but where the final siren never sounds. I visited India with my daughter Kat, with her reluctant but kind permission. India seemed to me a good example of a mass of people, with chaos and yet also order, joy and sadness, family and solitary, riches and cruelty. I took care over each stick figure. I wanted there to be just enough breathing room for there to be room for hope.
I want to have to struggle, to doubt, to be frustrated, to have moments of joy, to have periods of long and pathetic and tortured decision making and yet at times to paint without conscious thought and deliberation, to not know when the painting is finished, to be brave or stupid enough to continue with the painting and either wreck it or not, to not know when it’s finished, to not think of what others may think of it, to be frustrated and angry with myself, to be kind to myself, to risk it, to fuck it up, to start over, to turn it from dreadful to pleasing, to worry about it, to spit at it, to drink a lot, to not drink at all, to have moments of confidence, to want it to be for me only, to want it to have a strong effect on others and to be seen, to hide it away for years, to hide it away forever, to show it off, to be embarrassed and to feel proud.
I like to be able to keep looking at this painting, or at least be aware of it, and feel something each time.