there's the moment I quit being careful and things truly begin. sometimes, every day in here feels like the first time I've ever painted, while other times -picking up an ongoing painting, feels like continuing a conversation with an old friend. you know the ones, years can pass and within minutes of seeing each other it feels as though you lived the lifetime of memories you share just yesterday.
i feel a groove starting once again. though the week ahead has cold nights, somehow something inside has decided that freezing my ass off is incidental and that the moment is now. Agnes is here, watching the cars and trains pass by the open loading door. It's warm enough for a cigar and time to sit and watch this process unfold. some headway was made, i paint fast as if possessed by a mortal urgency.
i'm incorporating motifs, something quite frankly I've never had the guts to try. i remember many many years ago an art professor friend of mine said my work reminded him of Matisse. i remember i was fairly indignant about the association at the time, and it's taken years to understand the reference. from the perspective of process, I'm a lot more...mechanical i guess is the word, than I'd like to admit. repetition, repetition, and then some new possibility occurs to me.
I've got 4 canvases in play as of today, each will begin to pull apart and take its own journey. funny the things artists return to without knowing or even thinking about it necessarily. there are times when if feels as though something is trying to show itself to me. that's the moments i like best.
in my youth i experimented with a great many experiences. the frustration was always that I wanted desperately to bring something back, something tangible that anyone could see and get some sense of where i had been. painting does that, and i guess that's why it took hold of me.
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