Shelf Clock c. 1938

Lawrence Phillips made this image of a Shelf Clock with watercolor, gouache, and graphite on paper. I love the way this image gives us a clock, but not really. The clock is more of an idea, built up from thin layers of color. Look at the way Phillips renders the wood grain. The thin washes and fine lines create a depth that’s almost hallucinatory. It reminds me that paintings aren’t just about what they depict; they're about the process, the slow accumulation of marks. And then there's the clock face itself, with those slightly wonky Roman numerals and the sweet little floral arrangement at the center. It’s so charming and imperfect. It speaks to a certain kind of handmade sensibility, a world away from our sleek digital timepieces. I think it has something of the innocence of Henri Rousseau in it. Ultimately, this clock, like all art, resists being pinned down. It’s a reminder that meaning is always in flux, open to interpretation, and beautifully, endlessly ambiguous.