Catching raindrops and painting puddles

I was originally going to call this my second favourite artist but that does all kinds of injustice not just to Jessica Zoob but to the way her paintings effect me. I have a love affair with colour that’s bordering on worrying – I start to understand why people marry benches when I stare at this..

To put it in a less disturbing way, if any artist could paint a rendering of my soul I feel Jessica would be it.


There is a sense of fracture, like pieces of a puzzle you have to pull together yourself, but there is also the sense of a form within, a landscape, a scene. And I suppose for everyone it might come together a little differently. The colours, the blurring, makes me think of that strange effect you get when you squint your eyes, as if coming to something through your own faded memory, a blend of feeling and colour.

Being the upbeat Disney-with-a-squint sort that I am, I’d probably be drawn to this one. It makes me think of making perfume out of rose petals in jams jars as a child. I know they never smelt of anything but water and mildew, I know, but I remember roses. I remember this.


I have a love affair with art that reveals itself. Often to others it might appear to be unfinished, the offcuts, discarded pieces of the polished result, wood shavings, curls of iron, fraying fabrics, the gnarled clumps of wax we peel from a candle. To me it speaks to the truth of the material, what is really is, and shapes what it might become. Honestly, I struggle to articulate it more than that, but I prefer if at all possible in art, even in my writing, to let something of the innate nature of the form push through, I’m just trying to help dig it out.

Not that I don’t appreciate human ingenuity – I am a huge fan of indoor plumbing – it’s just that I don’t believe that we need to work against nature to create. We have become so used to certain unnatural forms we don’t even think to question their superiority. I am often reminded of the quote by Stephen King regarding adverbs..

they’re like dandelions. If you have one on your lawn, it looks pretty and unique. If you fail to root it out, however, you find five the next day ~ Stephen King, On writing

It always seemed the worst possible way to convince me. Who decided a relentlessly green square was so desirable? Where is the meadow without dozens of dandelions and daisies and who ever thought it ugly?

Nature isn’t a beast to be broken it’s inspiration and it’s speaking to us all the time if you listen.


The prints here don’t even begin to do her work justice. You can check out her website and see her list of exhibitions or just browse and dream. Like me.



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