I was once told what makes you a true writer is not so much writing on days you want to but writing on the days you don’t. I don’t want to do much of anything these days but to avoid the sweet call of the void I try to paint. And today is a study of light. My subject is my cat Bobby laying in the sun.
One of the first ways I learned how to paint was literally blocking the basic shapes of my subject with my paint brush until what emerged was a recognisable form. I’d say I’m quite good with basic shapes now but light is still one of those elements I struggle with. Where you decide to let light in and how you let it land dramatically changes the way an image is seen. What I struggle with most is balancing the values of light and dark in my paintings.

I tend to lean towards the shadows figuratively and literally. You can create so much with shadow. You can make things appear bigger than they are, bring form and dimension to flat shapes, you can trick the eye into believing there’s more there than there actually is. It feels safer there, I’m comfortable working with it and in it.
Past critiques from teachers have literally been about ‘not letting enough light in’ and ‘what is there to hide?’ comments that still feel uncomfortably applicable to my life. In some ways I’ve been afraid of working with light because of what it reveals to me; my fear of mistakes, the bad habits I've developed, and none of the courage to take time to work on it. All of those things can be hidden in the trickery of shadow.
When I was studying 3D animation one hundred thousand years ago, I learned of a lighting technique that fascinated me. It’s called Subsurface Scattering. When light penetrates a translucent material, say skin for instance, it bounces within it and illuminates everything in its path as it exits. If you hold your hand up to a strong light source, the edges and webbings of your hand will glow a deep orangey red. This is transluminescence.
It reminds me of the days when as a child I would hold my hand to the sun and marvel at my glowing edges; alight and delighted. Where did that child go? I was smaller then but I felt bigger than the shadows I take comfort in now. I can’t quite remember when it became such a refuge.
As I was painting I remembered a digital tutors video where the artist lecturer said ‘every great painting is a successful balance of light and shadow and with painting that’s all it is’.
As I applied brush strokes to the sunlit areas of Bobby’s face, her features appeared to soften, her serenity emerged, and a truer image began to stare back at me. ‘There she is’ I thought to myself. It annoyed me in the moment how I ought to bloody apply some sunlight to my own face.
I’ve been pondering on the way light illuminates an infinite universe in Bobby’s eyes. I can get lost in them for hours. When I peer into those tiny marbles stretching into the forever, past my own reflection, whole constellations and galaxies stare back at me.
If I stare close enough and squint my eyes, I can see a world orbiting a star at just the right distance, and closer still, a boy lying in the grass holding his hand up to the sun.
There he is.
I can figure out the why, but when did Dobby change to Bobby?
Been following since the beginning! Also saw Raging Grace 🙂
I love Bobby. Your portrait is handsome.