The art of just looking
I'm very lucky that the city where I live has an excellent art gallery, The Box, which recently won Art Fund Museum of the Year.
I spent a few hours there this week with a friend, taking a slow wander around the current exhibition, Gillian Ayres: A Life in Colour.

I try to see as many exhibitions as I can, whether or not I think I'll find the art attractive. I go with an open mind, looking for points of connection with the artist and for something I can learn. But whilst that might sound rather worthy, the truth is that my sense of being an impostor is often at its strongest when I'm wandering around an art gallery.
It's hard to escape the feeling that I should understand the art. And if I don't, perhaps I've somehow failed. Perhaps I'm inadequate. As I approach my 60th birthday, that feeling of inadequacy bothers me less than it once did, but it's still there.
This exhibition was a breath of fresh air.
Painted high on the gallery walls, above the enormous, vibrant canvases, were quotes from Gillian Ayres. The Box used one of them to guide the exhibition:
"Painting is a visual thing and that's it. People like to understand and I wish they wouldn't!
I wish they'd just look."

Having the artist's own words there completely changed the experience for me. They gave me permission to simply look. To enjoy the colours, textures and shapes and make my own connections and interpretations. To respond to the paintings in my own way, without that nagging doubt that I'm somehow failing to understand them properly.
We all go to galleries for different reasons, and we each come away with something different. Sometimes accepting that "painting is a visual thing and that's it" can be enough. What do you think?
Warmly,
Jane
Photos with kind permission of The Box, Plymouth, UK.

I agree with that. When people ask what does my work mean, I just ask them what does it mean to you? Seeing and connecting with it is enough.