Simple observations

During my recent hiatus of art production, I find myself looking around and remembering so much. As I see the world and catalog it in my mind as best I can, I remember even more from my past.

I remember candles at dinner when I was little, and I would test the power of my breath across the breadth of the table. Small wisps at first, building in volume and duration, and exhaling every few minutes, all to see the flames shutter in response. This test of my carbon dioxide endurance came and went while my parents chatted about the passing events of their day. To me these imaginative tests were far more fascinating than their dull diatribe of finance or petty comments from annoying acquaintances.

On the bus ride home this evening, an orange sun burned through cold purple clouds and warmed the still water of the polluted river. My back ached as the bus, in its headstrong journey down the highway, took no regard for the pits and faults of a neglected road, and how it sent the back of the bus into the air every few moments.

As a painter these "non-moments" that come and go all day are fuel and fusion for the process. Any work made after experiencing these moments is a result of having passed through these benign times as a willing observer, a servant to what happens when you step back and watch things happen.

I enjoy these times, where my mind is simply too empty to make work, and must fill itself with the world. Although I am frankly not happy with the work I am making now, I know the work I will make after this "empty" time, will be filled with the moments I observe, and save for inspiration later.