I've been thinking a lot about disruption this week - partly because there is a digger in my garden, a lot of mud, and a giant (and growing) hole! - and partly because of my approach to my current project.As many of you know, I am working on a whole series of work based on the nature poetry of Ted Hughes. The work has flowed from the beginning ... I always think when something is right, it is easy and this feels easy. I don't mean that I'm not working hard - I just mean that the paintings seem to flow and feel natural and they are fun to make. There is no struggle. There is only enjoyment and curiosity. And because things are flowing, there is a temptation to settle - to say 'right, I love these colours and these shapes - let's make a series of 20 panels and get this thing done!'But I don't want to do that. I want to explore this idea and take it further than just the first solution that presents itself.Many years ago, I decided to deal with my husband's snoring by buying a watch-like gadget that he wore on his wrist. Every time he started to snore, the marketing claimed, a gentle vibration would interrupt the pattern and give me a quiet night's sleep. What actually happened is that every time he started to snore, he was jolted violently awake, so he spent all night dropping off and then jerking upright, like some poor mouse in a scientific experiment!We returned the gadget and I accepted the snoring. But my current approach to my work is a little bit the same ... to make sure I don't start getting settled, I constantly jolt myself out of my comfort zone.So far this has meant working on paper .... Changing the shape .... Changing the orientation .... Finding new colours ... Using green (!) And working in black and white ... And do you know what? Each time I have taken a new approach, exciting and unexpected things have happened.I am thoroughly enjoying every moment of this project and I am excited to see what will happen next :)