I go through this phase of attack and attack, an get attacked. Aggression. But not aggressive strokes, an aggressive process. And then halfway through, I get calm. It’s like my brain’s unleashing itself, and by being really unconscious, stuff comes out, and it ends up this pretty shit painting. I get a vibe from it. And if I’m not 100% into it, I look at it and let it calm my mind down, then I go over to the next canvas. But I do try to bend it to my will. And as soon as it starts getting close, it’s like the painting wins; I don’t win. And then sometimes I’ll win, which is great, but there’s this struggle.

I don’t always get to the thing I’m thinking. Something happens on the way, this style happens, because I didn’t construct this style. The style’s all about lack of technique, limited imagination probably. Well, ‘limited’ meaning I have this one style, and whether I like it or not, I paint it. A friend of a friend said to me once about my paintings, ‘Well, you’ll get better.’ And once, another friend’s painter boyfriend said, ‘It must be really fun to take a bunch of color and slab it onto these big canvases.’ And I was like, ‘Thank you.’ It’s funny that’s what he viewed it as, because that’s sort of what it is. I don’t claim it as…I don’t have a precept, I don’t have a working concept or working - well, no, that’s not true.

Here’s what’s true: I know that it feels good to paint.