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When you don’t need an answer, there’ll be days like this...Van Morrison

Its Easter already and summer draws to a close. All over our beloved land, people are getting the last of the sun-laden days as the light throws longer and deeper shadows. In a day or two the rain will cascade gently down, signalling the start of the dreaded Cape winter. So if you have the good fortune to live close to a beach, why wouldn’t you grab your painting gear and give it a go? Avoiding the crowds on Grotto beach, I sneak off to a secret cove nearby. I’m teaching myself to be a plein-air painter, not with much success. But if you go through the motions enough, something is bound to happen, right? I also have Project Cleo underway. That is, I’m training a six-month-old pup to be an artist’s dog. Following after Lulu, the mighty Africanis, who left us in 2023, Cleo has big shoes to fill.

Cleo as an artist’s dog should be: restfully guarding the easel.

It only takes an hour or two of manic activity for Cleo to settle into this role. She greets and plays with everyone, but hey, she’s a teenager. Disapproving looks are often cast my way as she heads off down the beach to taunt other dogs and steal children’s playthings. While painting at the secret cove, she casually went for a walk to Voelklip with complete strangers. Then she launched herself into the surf in a failed attempt to get at some gulls sitting on the rocks. I pictured myself waist-deep in the icy waters, dragging her out. Generally though, it’s a win for both of us as she gets to have a good romp while I do a bit of distracted daubing.

The gear I bring with me has to be as light and portable as possible : aluminium camera tripod, five tubes of paint, a small 6 x 8 inch canvas panel and a small bottle of linseed oil. All set up and ready to paint, I found that I was lighter than I wanted- I’d forgotten my brushes. There was a palette knife at the bottom of the bag, and I proceeded to lather on the paint as if I was mini Frank Auerbach. By accident I was now avoiding my usual vice of using the small brush way too early. Once back in the studio, I added a touch here and there, trying not to kill the spontaneity of the first marks. Now I have something to look at. In the life of an artist, there are very few giant leaps or great breakthroughs. It is a slow, varying, incremental journey, by no means guaranteed to succeed. Each painting poses a new set of questions. Van Morrison is onto something there – why not give up the need for an answer? Just get into the sunlight and enjoy the process. On days like this.