Deep Among The Grasses
In a painting everything is shown at once, the viewer doesn’t experience the process, just the final image, a resolution made in the final brush mark. Often I don’t know myself when the last mark will fall, and usually forget soon after it’s done. This condensing of time into one fixed moment is something I think about a lot in my work. This year I began to think more deeply about my memories of landscapes - containing the energy of the land in the pictures surface. The glancing marks of my brush dancing across the surface of the canvas embodying time, emotion and memory. In some paintings, I’ve stitched sections of canvas together, creating subtle scars and joins — boundaries that echo those found in the land and in memory. All the work here is part of this enquiry, using my skills as a painter to make concrete these ideas. Thank you for taking the time to look.
Liz Foster - Oct 2025
“Where I grew up, the land was wide and flat. The edge of the garden bordered open fields, and the boundary was a tangle of trees, weeds, and old fencing. There was an area in our garden left to grow wild — a patch of long grass — and I remember crawling on all fours through that soft green jungle, imagining I was a lion or a tiger.
In one direction, I could see power stations rising like teeth from a gappy gum; in the other, distant hills, pale blue-grey against the horizon. I thought about those hills often and wondered what it might be like there.”