How Did These Snapshot Paintings Come About?

For a while, I felt like I was really stalling with my painting. The time I could dedicate to my art felt so fragmented and overly precious. It was a hurried setup on the kitchen table, a short session, then packing it all away again. I was using different canvas sizes, some framed, some just boards and I felt like I wasn't making any meaningful leaps forward.

A few concepts that had been rolling around in my head seemed to combine at just the right time. One was reflecting on a YouTube video by Artwod, where Antonio Stappaerts talks about the Dunning-Kruger effect in relation to specific skills within a broader subject. The other was the concept of repetition, i.e., painting the same thing over and over again to see how you progress.

That's when it clicked. Maybe there were too many variables in my art practice for any hints of remarkable progress. But what if I treated my painting process like a little scientific experiment? Instead of changing everything every time, what if I kept the canvas size the same, the paints the same and just let myself go to town on landscapes? The only rules being each Snapshot must have a horizon line and be finished in one sitting. Boom.

I was really excited by the thought of it. It became less about getting to a perfect finished piece and more about the journey and what I could learn from a consistent approach.

The idea for the small, Polaroid size came to me during an accidental moment with some masking tape. As I was taping off the paper, I created a square but left a bigger gap at the bottom and it immediately reminded me of an old Polaroid photograph. It just felt perfect.

The size instantly brought with it a feeling of nostalgia and reflection, which perfectly suited my impressionistic style. It all just fell into place, a small, contained world where you the viewer could get lost in an imagined memory or a wished for future.

That element of interpretation is so important to me. While these paintings start from my imagination or a memory, I love the idea that they can so easily become your interpretation. That you, the person looking at it, imbue it with meaning. You give it a narrative that is completely yours. And for me, that’s where the true magic happens.