Paint Storm

The paintings follow each other, like one thought that leads to the next, or one footstep after another until one notices the scenery has changed and what was a single step is forward motion; a continuing meander. Each painting is not so much a description or map of a journey, but is the dried evidence of a continuing adventure. One canvas follows another, as one walking on a sidewalk looks down and notices the concrete is a path of segments; one grey rectangular slab before and after the one we are standing upon. My painter’s voyage or walk is sometimes striding, and at other times on my knees, nose into the wet paint. I am within the canvas until it is dried, then I move on to the next. Each individual canvas is not unlike a short poem. I do not know what happens next. The paint and the canvas lead me onward. Stepping stones, perhaps.