Blue Balls V 1962

Here we have Sam Francis throwing down some blues. Imagine his studio, maybe in California, the light streaming in, him slinging paint, improvising these watery shapes. I feel the boldness, the sheer joy in laying down these marks. See how the blue drips, pools, and stains? He’s not precious, he's embracing the mess, the accidents. The fluidity of paint becomes a language. I wonder if he was thinking of Miró, or maybe even Matisse's cut-outs, that same playful spirit, the way colour and form dance together on the canvas. There's a conversation happening here, a dialogue with the history of painting, a painter responding to other painters across time. Francis makes something that’s utterly his own. It’s loose, it’s free, and it's beautiful. It reminds us that painting is always a process of discovery.