Sometimes I feel like I am the character in the movie of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Richard Dreyfus plays the main character
possessed with visions of a mountain that he is suppose to climb, to meet with aliens. There is a scene where he is in the kitchen madly trying to reproduce with piles of dirt, wire, trash cans, bricks and what ever he could find and drag in from the outside to help him somehow clarify and put his hands on what his mind was telling him to do. That moment when he finally feels like he is done with a giant mountain sitting in a middle of his kitchen and just glances at the TV, he sees the same copy of it on the news. It justifies the whole mess. That is the feeling I get when I know the painting is done. Up until that point it was just a frenzy of emotion, or if you let your self calm down, an afternoon play. And that is mixed medial play. I don’t copy something that is right in front of me. I use the images in my mind to create something in front of me, using scraps of paper, glue, tidbits of memos, crayons, stencils, stamps, and hoping that eventually all this will create something I want to look at.