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13 Prunella Clough, Peter Adam, actor Jacques Jolivet & 'Nina' (the dog) in South France. Photo by Facundo Bo 5. From an interview with Gerard Hastings, June 1982. 6. Ibid. 7. Ibid. 8. See Fence, Climbing Plant, 1978, Frances Spalding Prunella Clough 'regions unmapped' 2012, p.199 no:122 9. Professor John Ball, a friend and collector of Clough's work, frequently told this story. When he bought Gate I/ Grey Gate I, 1979. Prunella told him that she had tried several newspapers to achieve the desired mottled effect that she was looking for. 10. See Electrical Installation, 1959, Frances Spalding Prunella Clough'regions unmapped' 2012, p.133 no:86 11. From conversations with John Ball. pressed to the canvas. Sand and silicon carbide dust (carborundum) might be incorporated to thicken the consistency of the paint. Before she painted her forms or motifs, she would tape trial pieces of coloured card to the canvas or hold them in place with bulldog clips at the edges. The removal of pigment sometimes created marks more interesting than the application of it and so Prunella scratched, scraped and rubbed her canvases down. She would dab and blot the surface with solvents to li off accretions of paint, then rag-roll and smudge it until the image began to 'obey' her. The memory of previous marks might remain and breathe through the lingering consistency. Prunella once admitted that old copies of the Telegraph came in useful while working with decalcomania, or liquid blotting techniques. Apparently it didn't absorb the pigment as rapidly as The Times or the Guardian and so she had time to create more useful textures. 9 When her brush-tracks and paint marks are examined at close quarters it becomes clear that Prunella allowed diluted paint to dribble down the surface of some of her canvases. She turned them round so that the pigment trickles changed direction to form grid-like patterns or meshes of marks created by gravity. 10 When asked how she coped with dabbing on the interminable number of minuscule dots that cover the surface of paintings like Still Life, (1987), she replied, 'Oh I love doing jobs like that – you don't have to think about it; its mechanical and you can work out other things in your head.' 11 A er her studio, the kitchen was Prunella's favourite place; she invented and created things in these two rooms. Scrubbing brushes, Brillo pads, nail brushes and scourers were commandeered to scratch, scrape and scrub her paintings in a never-ending quest for interesting fields of textures. Sometimes domestic objects were incorporated directly into her work. In 1970 Keith Vaughan received a Christmas card from her, consisting of a green kitchen scourer with an etching of a baby stuck to it. Pigment-loaded pipe-cleaners, toilet brushes and stiff-bristled toothbrushes were requisitioned to be flicked and thwacked across her pictures to build up speckled surfaces. A variety of utensils, including washboards, potato mashers, colanders and washing-up mops,