there is a newly fabricated, $300 crate, paintings wrapped and packed into; large canvases on the walls getting worked and numerous smaller pieces-- in brooklyn and manhattan working spaces, getting touched up and done... jazz in the background: coltrane, miles, mojo mancini... the light is harsh in brooklyn around 3pm-- the west-facing windows give no relief... and you wonder what really is going on in this moment. a moment when you may or may not be putting paint down-- but are, for sure, making art. you wonder about this and nod your head and feel like something is happening here. something real and something good. something as close as it should be to what it is that you as an artist should be doing.

and you think about that for a second or 2, maybe smile and get on with it.

all of it...