The Mystery
When all is silent within and without and all I can hear is the soft scraping of a sharpened pencil upon a smooth paper its a time when there is nowhere else in the world I would rather be and nothing else that I would rather be doing.
Its a mysterious sensation that comes when I work. When I ponder upon it therafter, I remember that the state of focus and concentration which created a painting seemed to take my awareness out of time. This sensation fades when a work is complete, and a kind of forgetfulness comes to me as I turn my attention away from the work and back to daily life. The work is finished, and the painting has taken on a life of it's own. In painting, technique is the partner to something more profound, which is the heart and mind of the painter and the undefined moment working through them. When I look back on my work, I generally wonder to myself did I do that?
Its a mysterious sensation that comes when I work. When I ponder upon it therafter, I remember that the state of focus and concentration which created a painting seemed to take my awareness out of time. This sensation fades when a work is complete, and a kind of forgetfulness comes to me as I turn my attention away from the work and back to daily life. The work is finished, and the painting has taken on a life of it's own. In painting, technique is the partner to something more profound, which is the heart and mind of the painter and the undefined moment working through them. When I look back on my work, I generally wonder to myself did I do that?
