I'm Not Interested In Painting; I'm Not

But You Begin To Feel As You Go On Working That Unless Painting Proves Its Right To Exist By Being Critical And Self-judging, It Has No Reason To Exist At All - Or Is Not Even Possible. The Canvas Is A Court Where The Artist Is Prosecutor, Defendant, Jury And Judge. Art Without A Trial Disappears At A Glance.

Look At Any Inspired Painting. It's Like A Gong Sounding; It Puts You In A State Of Reverberation.

There Are So Many Things In The World - In The Cities - So Much To See. Does Art Need To Represent This Variety And Contribute To Its Proliferation? Can Art Be That Free? The Difficulties Begin When You Understand What It Is That The Soul Will Not Permit The Hand To Make.

I Have A Studio In The Country - In The Woods - But My Paintings Look More Real To Me Than What Is Outdoors. You Walk Outside; The Rocks Are Inert; Even The Clouds Are Inert. It Makes Me Feel A Little Better. But I Do Have A Faith That It Is Possible To Make A Living Thing, Not A Diagram Of What I Have Been Thinking: To Posit With Paint Something Living, Something That Changes Each Day.

The Painting Is Not On A Surface, But On A Plane Which Is Imagined. It Moves In A Mind. It Is Not There Physically At All. It Is An Illusion, A Piece Of Magic, So That What You See Is Not What You See.