Staring down at a blank canvas, a black white sheet of paper, I notice a familiar tension gathering in my soul and in my body. That first mark, is so important.
I relish this beginning tension. It makes my whole body alive, awake and excited for the struggle that is about to begin. The tension between myself and the materials and the desire for something to become.
I work in a state of passion and frenzy. When I begin, I act. The work rarely satisfies me in the beginning. Perhaps that is because I know that there will be hours of extreme pleasure to follow and I want to stretch it out for as long as possible. I am a great fighter and I love sorting these things out. I love throwing myself into the struggle.
It’s a battle between me and what I am doing, between me and the work. The struggle excites me. I work until the energy stops flowing from me and appears in the work, as a thing in itself.
When this satisfaction comes quickly, I stop and allow it to be.
It is finished either way and it has an energy all its own. I have been privileged to share in the experience of its becoming.
It is the beauty of creation.