I always love painting. If not mine, then somebody’s.

When I’m off track with my own work, I look at Rembrandt and Goya, Vermeer and Matisse. I look at Gorky, Rothko, Morandi, 17th century paintings from China and cave paintings from forever.

In the past two years, the path I’ve been following for quite a while was no longer yielding new glimpses and I couldn’t find a way. From years of working, both as an artist and an instructor, I understood that as long as you court experience, there can be no failure. When you work, you see. Watching what’s there as you flounder and sink provides you with new ways of seeing what you thought you saw before. Vistas open.