Working from the Inside Out: Perception, Delay, and Studio Praxis
Painting and drawing begin before the hand touches the surface. They begin in perception: in colour, shape, form, texture, and illumination as they appear, change, and resist settling into a fixed image. Yet perception does not arrive with a theory of painting attached. It does not present itself as composition, style, lineage, or historical position. It begins as an unstable visual event.
This does not mean that perception is empty or without structure. Colour, contour, depth, and surface are already related in experience; they are encountered by a living body in a world. But these relations are not yet artistic doctrine. Theory emerges when the artist reflects on what has happened, attempting to articulate the experience of seeing and making. The danger is that theory may arrive too early, determining what the artist is able to see before perception has had the opportunity to develop on its own terms.
In my praxis, the movement from perception to painting and drawing can be understood through two delays.
The First Delay: Perception Enters Apeiron
The first delay begins with the encounter between the external world and the perceiving body. Light enters the eye, and the visual experience that emerges is not a simple transfer of the external world into awareness. Perception is selective and relational, shaped by attention, bodily position, memory, and the conditions under which something is seen. The motif begins to lose some of its immediate tangibility.
I call the field into which this altered perception passes Apeiron. In my practice, Apeiron names an open field in which perception has not yet settled into a fixed image, concept, or artistic decision. It is not simply an idea of infinity, nor is it a predetermined mental image waiting to be transferred onto a surface. It is a field of perceptual possibility in which relations remain unsettled and available for reconstitution.
What emerges from this first delay is perceptual residue: unstable colour relations, uncertain contours, shifting forms, and the pressure of illumination. Residue is not merely what remains after the original experience has diminished. It is what becomes available when the motif is no longer experienced solely as an external object to be copied. The motif remains present, but its significance begins to shift. It becomes a trigger for perception’s continuing transformation.
The Second Delay: Residue Becomes Praxis
The second delay begins when perceptual residue enters the activity of making. It is not simply transferred onto paper or canvas. It encounters the artist’s body, hand, memory, accumulated visual experience, and the material resistance of the surface.
Here, perception is reconstituted through action. Residue becomes marks: drawn lines, painted patches, colour relationships, erasures, pressures, and rhythms. These marks do not simply reproduce the motif. They give material form to the transformation of perception.
Yet the process does not end with the production of a mark. The emerging drawing or painting becomes something to be perceived again. A line changes the way the motif is seen; a patch of colour alters the relationship between surrounding forms; an erasure opens a possibility that was not previously apparent. The changed perception influences the next action, which in turn changes the work and the conditions of seeing.
The two delays are therefore distinguishable, but they are not isolated stages in a linear process. The movement from perception to residue and from residue to mark becomes recursive. Making changes seeing, and seeing changes making. The work develops through this continuing exchange between perceptual experience, bodily action, and material consequence.
Praxis is not the execution of an image already determined in the mind. It is the activity through which perception continues to change.
Texture Appears in Space
Texture has a particular place in this process because it brings the relationship between perception and material realisation into focus.
In the first delay, the motif may suggest surface, density, resistance, and depth. Texture can be perceived in the external world, but its appearance does not determine how it will be realised in a drawing or painting. The texture of a painted surface is not simply the transfer of an observed quality from one material space to another.
Texture emerges materially through the activity of making: when pastel drags across paper, when paint is layered or thinned, when pigment is scraped away, or when a mark breaks against the resistance of the surface. Each action produces a particular material condition that could not be reduced to the appearance of the motif alone.
The material does not merely reproduce a perceptual quality; it establishes a new one. The resulting texture belongs to the encounter between the artist’s action and the material, while remaining connected to the perceptual experience that initiated the work.
Perception may intimate texture, but the studio realises it in space.
The Work as Evidence
In the work titled Sliced Apple — pencil, felt‑tip pen, pen and ink, and correction fluid on coloured pastel paper, 12 cm (h) × 10 cm (w) — the relationship between perception and making becomes visible.
The contour does not stabilise the apple into a single, definitive outline. It flickers, searches, and repeatedly approaches coherence without entirely closing around the form. The pastel patches of yellow, red, and blue do not simply describe the motif’s local colour. They participate in the construction of the drawing, establishing relationships that emerge through the instability of seeing and the subsequent activity of making.
The drawing is therefore not only an image of the motif. It also provides evidence of the process through which the motif is transformed in perception and materialised through marks.
The motif remains present, but it functions as a trigger rather than a template. The drawing records the loss of immediate tangibility through the first delay, as perception becomes residue. It also records the second movement, in which residue becomes line, colour, surface, and spatial relation.
These movements cannot be separated completely in the finished work. The marks preserve traces of their emergence, but they also establish new conditions for seeing. What is visible on the paper is not a straightforward record of an earlier perceptual event. It is the consequence of perception repeatedly encountering its own material effects.
Cézanne and the Interior Field
Cézanne is important to this discussion because his painting demonstrates that representing the external world need not mean simply reproducing its appearance. His work suggests that painting can investigate how the world becomes visible to a perceiving body: how form gathers, dissolves, and reforms through colour, spacing, and sensation.
Cézanne’s significance here is not that he escaped art history. He studied it deeply. His work emerged through an engagement with inherited artistic knowledge, yet his painting also demonstrates the necessity of investigating perception through the act of painting itself.
In the studio, inherited methods need not disappear, but their authority to determine in advance what seeing must become can be suspended. Art history is not abolished. It is delayed. It remains available as memory, influence, and possibility rather than functioning as a rule that perception must obey.
This distinction is important to my praxis. The question is not whether the artist can work without historical influence, prior knowledge, or established ways of seeing. It is whether these influences can remain open to transformation through the immediate activity of perception and making.
Originality in the Delay
Originality does not arise simply from rejecting history, skill, or influence. Nor does it come from looking harder at the external world in the hope of achieving a more accurate representation. It emerges through the transformation of perceptual experience into material form.
The interval between the two delays is particularly important. Here, perception has begun to lose its immediate tangibility, but its residue has not yet been determined by the act of making. This is not an empty interval or a space entirely free of memory and prior experience. It is a field of possibility in which perception, accumulated experience, and imagination remain available for reconstitution.
When residue enters practice, it encounters the hand and the material surface. What emerges cannot be fully predicted in advance. The artist acts, perceives the consequences of that action, and acts again. Originality develops through this process of transformation rather than through the deliberate pursuit of novelty.
Painting and drawing therefore do not begin with theory. They begin with the fact of seeing: a body encountering colour, form, surface, and light before those experiences have been converted into artistic doctrine. Making brings perception into material negotiation with a surface; reflection subsequently provides ways of articulating what has occurred.
The task is not to escape theory altogether, nor to claim that painting can exist outside history. It is to prevent theory from arriving before perception has had the opportunity to transform the encounter with the world, and before the hand has had the opportunity to realise that transformation in space.
The work does not resolve every question raised by the process. It makes the process available for further perception, further making, and further thought.
内側から描くこと:知覚・遅延・スタジオ・プラクシス
私のプラクシスでは、知覚から絵画・素描へと移行する運動は 二つの遅延によって理解できる。
第一の遅延:知覚がアペイロンへ入る
第二の遅延:残滓がプラクシスへと変わる
空間に現れるテクスチャー
テクスチャーは、知覚と物質的実現の関係を焦点化するために特別な位置を占める。
知覚はテクスチャーを予感するかもしれないが、スタジオはそれを空間に実現する。
作品は証拠である
《Sliced Apple》──鉛筆、フェルトペン、インク、修正液、色付きパステル紙(12 × 10 cm)──では、知覚と制作の関係が可視化されている。





