We are all in some respect entropy generating organisms (human beings). When making my paintings, I become a professional producer of clutter, a destroyer of order. Picture making for me is a messy affair. The deeper into a picture the more trashed out my studio becomes.
There is a large, intuitive, improvisational component to my paintings. Everything I know about them is discovered after the fact. Even when I make precise, preparatory drawings, they serve mainly as inertia-changing devices.
This process of retrospective self-discovery requires a lot of “looking” and I built my studio to accommodate this.
The two photos you see here of my workroom have been dressed up for public presentation (large sheets of foam core pinned over paint-befouled walls).
I have divided my studio into two parts: a workspace where most of the painting is done, and a watching space where pictures—whether in progress or finished—can be quickly moved onto a clean wall. (Click above on studio view, west wall to see finish room.)
I’ve created this “watching” space as a distraction-free area from which I can view my paintings. From here I am able to discover the paintings after the fact, incorporating what I see into the evolutionary process of the work.
A conspicuous by-product of my work is the babbiated, paint-scabbed masking tape, which builds up on the easel base over the course of a painting. In time, these tape scraps grow to such size as to be sculptures* of their own.
