The theory came a little unstuck yesterday.
I was sketching with Ellen and Anthea in my Saturday morning class for The Meeting Place. It was wild windy weather, but we found a fairly sheltered spot at an outside table on the eastern side of the Patisserie. I liked the look of the street signs and thought i'd start there. Moved down the power pole adding bits of detail. So far so good. Over to the pots and shrubbery, the kerb, the entrance to the building, the awning - by which time nothing fitted or matched up.
When I got home and added the colour, other issues began to raise themselves. As I wrote on the drawing, I love the attention to detail that I see in artists like Tommy Kane. I feel the pull of that delight in every little thing. At the same time, I love the loose, spontaneous approach to sketching where colour slops outside the lines and there is evidence of paint playing its own unpredictable games on the paper. Control, loss of control. Which am I? Who is me? It quickly got quite angsty.
All I can think to do is keep drawing and eventually with the 20:20 of hindsight, I'll figure it out.