Or rather, one of them:
The last two weeks I’ve been painting (almost) every day. At first when I went into my studio I thought: I don’t want to paint, I don’t want to do this, I don’t have anything to say. But as soon as I started, picked up some paint sticks, the paintings just worked themselves out. It’s been exciting to see the way they can still change, still have a life of their own, separate from me, from what I am thinking and feeling.
A couple of months ago I put a series of small paintings, 12” x 12”, around the room. Because of the size, the imagery seems bigger. So it looked like a series of circles. Every painting had one or more prominent circle in it. I had once said I’d Never Do Another Circle. Imagine that. Circles. No circles. Sometimes it feels like it’s not my choice; I may have some thoughts but the painting chooses, has the final say.