Color Is The Place Where Our Brain

I Still Come Closest To Success With Drawing. When I Use Color The Results Are Dubious, For These Painfully Gained Experiences Bear Less Fruit.

Everything Vanishes Around Me, And Works Are Born As If Out Of The Void. Ripe, Graphic Fruits Fall Off. My Hand Has Become The Obedient Instrument Of A Remote Will.

An Active Line On A Walk, Moving Freely, Without Goal. A Walk For A Walk's Sake.

The Way To Form Transcends Its Own Destination, Goes Beyond The End Of The Way Itself.

The Longer A Line, The More Of The Time Element It Contains. Distance Is Time Whereas A Surface Is Apprehended More In Terms Of The Moment.