Sometimes making art is hard work, a struggle, work. Those paintings, when I stay with them, eventually bring great joy. Or they get put in a corner for bad behavior. Yet sometimes a painting just paints itself. I don’t feel I have too much to say, it just happens. I don’t know where it comes from. It just does. It exists on its own.
Like the five panel piece, this one also painted itself. Those images at the top are new and not new. They've been in other paintings, but I usually paint them out. Here they demanded to stay. So that's were they will live.
