Painting is by its very nature an entirely impossible task. The artist, the colours and materials and the moment agree to come together and when they do, each one changes its mind, thinks the whole gambit a marvellous arrogance, an ineffable miracle and altogether something that should be left to others. But like a good meeting, we allow a little space for the other, discover a sense of humour and see that a certain alchemy might result in something worthwhile to be expressed. It is at best a travail of the artist longing for home and at worst a miserable and intractable mistake. Then every now and again the sun peeps through and we say to one another, “Ah there you are” and carry on.