I saw this painting in early 1986. It totally blew me away. I was eighteen.
It's quite big work-2110 x 2725 mm. Oil pastel on paper.
I saw it in Hamilton. I was in a gallery. I came around the corner and there it was. I froze. It hit me hard. It articulated a feeling in me I had no words for. I loved that a work of art could do that.
For so long, as a high school student, I'd loved looking at all those semi-rubbed out lines of chalk on the greeny-black blackboard. This work felt like that, writ large.
This work talked to something deep inside me. It made me feel I could be an artist.
I've never, to this day, been hit by an art work like this one.
That experience has stayed with me. It's a feeling I try to aim for when I make art.
The work is by New Zealand artist John Reynolds.
I met him later that same year and have done so since, every few years.
He's one of bubbliest artists I've ever met.