54 Obsession

Obsession is the third painting in the Alice series, and by now the pattern is unmistakable. The tennis ball has moved beyond being a toy or a reward; it has become an idea. An anchor. A quiet force that pulls everything else into its orbit. Alice, the labradoodle at the centre of these works, does not chase chaos. She waits. She watches. Her stillness is where the obsession lives.

In this painting, the space is calm and carefully ordered. The pool dominates the foreground, its surface broken by light and movement, a lattice of blues that feels both cooling and restless. The water is beautiful, almost hypnotic, but it is not the subject. Floating within it is the tennis ball, half-submerged, luminous against the blue. It sits just out of reach, close enough to promise action, far enough to demand patience. This distance is important. Obsession thrives not on fulfilment, but on anticipation.

Alice lies at the edge of the pool, her body relaxed, her focus absolute. She is not distracted by the garden behind her, nor by the richness of the hydrangeas or the clipped hedges. These are painted with care, dense with colour and order, but they exist as a backdrop, a constructed calm. The gate beyond suggests the wider world, but Alice has no interest in leaving. Everything she needs is right here, contained within this small, perfect moment.

Colour plays a central role in Obsession. The blue of the pool is deep and immersive, echoing earlier works in the series where colour becomes an emotional temperature rather than a descriptive tool. Against it, the green of the tennis ball is heightened, almost electric. It is impossible to ignore. The ball is not large, yet it commands the composition. Like all obsessions, it distorts scale and importance, making the insignificant feel essential.

This painting sits naturally alongside Fetch and Dream Job. In Fetch, the ball introduces a new subject, a new rhythm. In Dream Job, the court becomes a place of purpose, with Alice surrounded by abundance. Obsession shifts the tone again. Here, there is only one ball, and it is enough. The narrative has slowed. Action has been replaced by contemplation. The joy is quieter, more intense.

There is humour in this, but also recognition. Obsession is not unique to dogs. It mirrors our own fixations, the things we return to again and again, believing they will bring satisfaction, structure, and meaning. Like Alice, we wait at the edge, convinced that the next throw, the next moment, will be the one.

Obsession is not about excess. It is about focus. It captures that precise point where desire narrows the world, simplifies it, and makes it feel complete. In Alice’s unwavering gaze, there is devotion, patience, and absolute certainty. The ball will move eventually. Until then, nothing else matters.

Oil on fine portrait linen: 95 x 125 cm; 37.4 x 49.21 in (Sold)