Donald Judd incarnate

People used to come into the gallery and ask for a painting that would go well with their furniture. These people knew nothing or very little about art, but I was happy to sell them something.

When they'd leave it was always very quiet in the gallery, not like something was missing but that what had been missing was somewhere in the throes of being restored.

I'd walk around the space for a while, trying to find what was missing and what had been restored, looking for a place on one of the four walls I could have all to myself.

Then I'd make something, anything, just to get started making something, because I was an artist.

I learned to be happy with whatever I made, seeing that it looked good with whatever was above it.