It’s only once I hit on using these black grounds, like SLAM! like here’s a starting point for you here’s where you’ll have to really begin that I have come to recognize how little I have done til now to truly “work” a surface how far they still have to go…I go to the galleries full of new weak coffee paintings same bodies tripled territory same thunderthigh transparencies that stand in for thought and I miss in painting the quiet facility I have with writing...in painting I really feel as if I am doing battle, that there is so much history to contend with and here I am, small, and seeking mark. I let go of shame ? perhaps for how long it took me to get to this humbling point for something that, well, it so easy to see it in others. To meet them where at. I must have become more forgiving with age, perhaps. And Rachel says I am a painting dj mixing it up and everywhere I go there are my paintings in trees and sky and on the floor and in the soil and when I turn back to the canvas there assembles the Greek chorus, the crowd, all my old and alien priors, Charline and Rita and Asger and Francis, those sometimes friends.
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