The end of an era, the start of a new century, found me at my lowest ebb both physically and emotionally. I felt I had lost everything I had worked so hard for, yet I knew it had to be and that I couldn't continue to function as I once had; there was no going back. A huge weight had been taken away, but it felt as though it was still there; I had left without any sense of closure and it took many months to realise that my life had changed completely, (I still have dreams that I am at the College and no one seems to realise that I have left).

Later during 2000, my father was taken poorly and following major surgery, was diagnosed with terminal cancer. We were all devastated and distraught, but focusing on caring for him during the following months gave me more time to be with him and help my mother through the ordeal. It certainly made me realise the importance of family over work and put my own "plight" into a more realistic perspective in a very real way. I miss his good advice and his true sense of optimism to this day.

Following Dad's death, I was completely numb and although I moved into my new studio, I couldn't function properly for several months, spending time on perfunctory DIY jobs and feeling sorry for myself. My cousin asked me to paint him a picture of a barn owl, probably to get me working again, but as it progressed it also seemed to become a messenger/symbol of my father watching over me (or so I like to believe).

Once I had begun to paint I never really stopped, I was like a man on a mission making up for lost time. Firstly came the works I had left for so long; these were completely reconsidered with new studies made and many changes to the compositions. They became a sort of an apology to my children, for not being there as much I should have when they were growing up.

Many other formative ideas from my sketchbooks were developed into finished paintings and I began to exhibit again; life was wonderful, like really being myself for the first time. Of course, given my nature as one of life's dreamers, I have many themes which re-occur throughout my work, but recently I seem to have a deepening sense of mortality; not surprising given the recent events in the last few years. This has led to many ideas about time/change, memory, a sense of loss, and especially how to convey these emotions through my work.

I have always realised that "realism" is a subjective concept, especially in this digital age of virtual reality. Representational painting has its limits when trying to express the emotional states of mind of both the painter and the painted and I have for a while now, become engrossed in new ways of combining abstraction within my portraiture to attempt a synthesis of thoughts, memories, inner and outer worlds, brought together without recourse to explicit narrative or overtly illustrative means.

Summary of current practices - 2009

Internal and External Worlds

The majority of my work has revolved around figurative and traditional portrait painting for many years. Since 2001, I began to experiment far more with the context I placed my sitters in, often using collaged elements including a range of abstract forms and digitally manipulated imagery to create a sense of the inner and outer worlds we experience in our lives.

Perhaps this is best seen as inner states of mind (memories, dreams, thoughts and emotional reactions, etc) in relation to our external world of 'reality' and the way things are around us. I am intrigued to discover and investigate how I can reconcile these very disparate concepts in a meaningful way, without resorting to illustration or over-literal depictions. We seem too willing to categorise works as abstract or realistic and many find it difficult to accept them inhabiting the same space in this bilateral way.

Having attempted various painted approaches to figurative abstraction, I began to experiment far more with digital inputs, which allowed me to work at a more exhilarating speed, making changes to colour, mark-making and composition, without having to keep repainting sections over and over. In short, it suited the speed at which my mind was working. The vast difference between the painted / brush mark, and the computer-generated marks worried me initially, but once I had become more adept at bringing them together and combining them, a new and more fascinating synthesis occurred.

I now seem to oscillate between printing onto canvas and painting into these in oils and acrylics, or painting first and importing this into a digital format to further develop before printing onto canvas. There are now many abstract images which have become print ideas in their own right and others which are left in a state of flux often becoming the starting point for new themes.

The thing I love most about digital prints, is the unique verisimilitude of colour and marks that are retained in such complex formations, way beyond even the most fastidious painter's hand. Combining these with painting is for me like opening a whole new Pandora's box of possibilities, some made by a machine responding to my wishes, others by my hand and mind working towards a more human endeavour.

Having spent many years teaching textile design and screen printing techniques, I have a strong awareness of the multi-layering processes involved in this and Fine Art printing.

Much of this experience has proved invaluable during the manipulation and development of my digital prints and pushing the boundaries of image making through experimentation.

Antony Summers - 2009.