abstraction, sense wa, intuition. These are pictures of three consciousnesses, and, like all pictures, they’re telling a story.
the last black-field painting was finished yesterday. a trashing-homage to matisse. ‘matisse wa’ thing, it truly sucks to the degree that matisse is wonderful.
i completed it because i felt really bad yesterday, suicidal, knowing how worthless i am. making the last mark pushed me from the edge. i’m driving nails into the water when i should be boiling it away.
‘art’ is what an artist makes when he makes art. but, making art is about transcending your own mediocrity. when an artist develops and understands her tools and technique and watches where they lead her, she realizes that art is the means to understand herself and become free — to move outside her own narrow space and understanding.
the artist moves outside his genre to invent his art. he invents a world for himself. i’m sort of there, but i’m still looking over my shoulder to see what the watchers are seeing. the liberating thing this last year is to realize the art lovers were actually just looking to see if i was appreciating their condescension in looking at my stuff at all. it’s easier to work now that i’m turning my back on them… no more distractions from helping the needy narcissists. this, of course, is just protective reaction. but, after, what, seven years of not even getting a comment or a share from such good friends, i think maybe i have to realize what ‘friend’ actually means.