5 or 6 years ago i made a commitment
to make "drawing" a prominent activity,
not only in my studio practice,
but also my day to day pursuits.
there have been minutes
hunched over a notebook
with a stick of charcoal
where i learned more about myself
and my art than any number of 19 hour shifts
in my Long Island City warehouse space of years ago,
fueled as i was by booze
and any number of unmentionable habits-
long since abandoned…
in that time, i've cast off the distinctions between
"finished" drawings and "working" drawings.
my works on paper swing wildly
between the geometries that move me
and the aggressive (or perhaps, meditative)
calligraphy that has since found it's way into my paintings.
there are the drawings that have been labored over
and across 3 or 4 years
and there are the drawings
that are simply what they are-
the movement of a brush,
or other tool across an expanse of paper…
i'm home and the family is asleep.
it's too late to start cooking,
so the meal will be of a simple tequila.
the labors have been in the nature of "setting up"--
under painting and the sorting out
and false starts…
this can be maddening
or, at times pure,
but, like changing a diaper
or cutting back the bamboo,
it is the work that is needed for now…
it's important to remember
that we are on this journey
to find out where it takes us,
not to reach a destination…
this is the paradox of the studio:
we're going nowhere and universal all at once.