Sunday, 4 January 2026

The Physics of the Pulse: Delay in Studio Praxis


Woman Sitting on bed - Peter Davidson 
pencil, pastel coloured and  pencil on paper - FO



The Physics of the Pulse: Delay in Studio Praxis

By Peter Davidson

In my research into Painterly Praxis, I have identified a structural condition that defines every mark we make: Delay. This is the "Interval"—a timeless space of influence that exists between the sighting of a motif and the execution of a mark.

Traditional art theory often ignores this gap, but I believe it is the most honest space an artist can inhabit. To understand Delay, we must accept a fundamental truth: You were born a pulse, not a clock.

The Structural Condition of Delay

Delay is not a historical position or a stylistic category; it is a timeless perceptual condition operative in the act of making. It names the interval in which sensory information is reconstructed through embodied attention rather than immediately reproduced.

This interval persists across all historical periods, but its manifestations are always contingent. It does not produce a “uniform look.” Instead, it produces plural outcomes based on the artist’s unique focus. Delay is a structural condition of practice, not a universal aesthetic claim. It is the physics of how we see.

The Tyranny of the Clock

The Clock is the enemy of the artist. It represents linear time and the external demand for a “finished” product. The Clock insists that Delay is a failure of nerve or a lack of skill. It wants you to eliminate the gap between seeing and doing so you can produce a smooth, inert copy of reality. But the Clock is a machine. To follow it is to bleed the energy out of your work until it reaches a state of inert equilibrium.

The Power of Earned Delay

A Pulse is different. It is a measurement of pressure and rhythm. In the studio, your pulse creates Delay. This isn’t “waiting”; it is the active accumulation of energy.

Delay is a biological necessity—the space your brain needs to filter "macro-thinking" (your intent) into "micro-thinking" (the analytical mark). Because scale is inversely proportional to focus, a small 18 cm board becomes a pressure chamber for Delay. The smaller the Anchor (the board or paper), the deeper the Delay must be to achieve impact.

The Equation of the Mark



We can describe this phenomenon as a physical relationship of forces



For example, an art student might paint the love of nature while landscape painting, knowing that such an emotion cannot produce tangible proof—even though the sensation drives their studio praxis. We can borrow from theoretical physics the symbol:

This signifies Phenomena (Φ ) revealing the student’s studio praxis within the Delay.

The Phenomenon of Scintillation

Scintillation is the flicker that occurs when you leave the timeless space of Delay and produce a spatial mark on the surface of the paper or canvas—one charged with the intentionality that drives your studio praxis.

Instead of one smooth, “correct” line, you leave the searching, overlapping registrations of your eye. These lines vibrate against one another, creating a pulse on the paper that matches the pulse in your body.

Every Dog in the Yard

Once a mark is anchored, the work enters the world. And just as every artist is a pulse, every viewer is a pulse. Every dog in the yard has a different view.

One viewer may react to the scintillation of a single line; another may feel the heavy pressure of the Delay in the shadows. By refusing to “resolve” the painting into a dead likeness, you leave the Delay visible—offering the viewer a site of resistance.

The Scintillation Test: Is the Pulse Present?

To know whether your Delay has been converted into Impact, ask:

  • Does it vibrate? Do multiple registrations create a shimmer, or is the line frozen and inert?

  • Is there asymmetry? Does the work feel “off” but powerful, or has it collapsed into a boring, symmetrical balance?

  • Does it resist? Does it force the viewer to slow down and enter their own interval of observation?

The Uncharted Horizon

We are not cameras; we are transducers of reality. By accepting Delay and honoring the Pulse, we move away from reproducing the world and toward registering the impact of being alive.

The paper is your anchor. The Delay is your substance. Your pulse is the only clock that matters.