Jeffery and Sally Stride

When I tend my garden I move instinctively from one place to another. Like all the other creatures who inhabit and visit the garden I am participating in the creative energy of this little cosmos. I try to be methodical and plan but it’s not so easy as the garden has a way of imposing its needs.

I think that I am painting when I garden.

Of course, there is an initial overall approach which respects the inherent architecture contained within the four walls like the confines of a canvas. Then I let the painting grow. My eyes, leading the paint-brush, move constantly through the spaces, tracing paths, finding the roots of plants looking through the leaves and stems diverted by a sudden flash of colour; trying to comprehend the space the flowers inhabit, the air they breathe, their relation to each other. Finally a painting germinates. It grows slowly, reaching up, expressing rhythms and pulsations, weight and suspension, passing through depths and silences, seeking the light through texture, tone and colour. Eventually it breaks through the limits of the frame-work to find it’s own poetic space.

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