Making a Painting with the Garage Door Open

I enjoy doing things that are difficult, as I always learn something new.

When I drop something now, when the jar of peanut butter I hope to open resists me or when I fumble a little with some other small task that takes more time than it once did, instead of irritation I express my gratitude for the opportunity time has given me to examine the specific circumstances that have led to my difficulty, believing there are great riches there.

I’ve begun also to be able to tell the difference between ideas that might go somewhere and ideas that won’t.

A site-specific visual artist, I’m now experimenting with using circles to make the sign of the cross, and with using the sign of the cross to make a circle.

Making difficult pictorial statements I discover that once I start filling up space with images, space appears to be endless; that more space can always be added to the picture, or taken away. The more pictures I make the less need I have of words, or to hear words speak or to think I’m hearing words speak. The alphabet then becomes picture made of seemingly infinite colors.

When I paint with the the garage door open I’m in a state of some sort of grace. Everything worth knowing, everything worth seeing, everything worth hearing is evanescent. I’m too old to live and too young to die, and hope to make a picture of those words someday.

“The United States of Butter”, unfinished painting, 24” x 24”, acrylic & oil on unprimed canvas.