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I recently found a notebook of sketches I did way back in the early ‘70s. It was a big surprise for me to see how organized I was. I actually thought I could organize how I wanted a painting to be. Now I realize it is how I want a painting to become. The being part happens on its own, with no direction from me, or rather, well, maybe a little. I am well trained, have had a long experience with trying to get it “right”, and now, I just dig in. I watch as things change before me on the canvas.

Not only is everything subject to change, but also understanding that now feels like the essence of everything, not only about my paintings. Realizing this, then life, living, makes more sense. If we get two days of good weather in a week (sunshine, no rain) then all in the world is right. When it rains day after day, not much feels good. Then, change in the weather again, in our mood, how we see, feel.

I was talking about this to my poet friend, Nanci Lee. I told her all my work is about becoming so that is why it is almost never really “finished “. She said that is how she “metabolizes the world.” She pointed me to a couple of lines in one of her beautiful, intense poems in her recently published book Hsin.

“each loud turn

a becoming”

Becoming, change, in process of becoming, defining the decisions. And then what. . . The eternal question.


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