THE EASEL FOXTROT

I have never been able to work satisfactorily on an easel. I found it far too yielding as I pressed my attentions onto it. My skies and seas are done with fairly violent brushstrokes, which made the thing retreat before me. To prevent this, I used to jam one of my legs behind it, which just made it bend over under the weight of my brush hand, so I put my other arm behind it to counteract this. My easel and I became engaged in a rather grotesque foxtrot around the room, until we found ourselves wedged in a corner, normally next to the door, where I belaboured my canvas until someone entered the room and knocked both of us over.

I finally gave away my easel to someone who could treat it better, and, since this unsatisfactory relationship, I have always worked flat on a table. This can affect the vertical dimensions of my artwork, so I have to watch out for this.