Beyond the how and what of art is the response you have when you look at a work of art. If some understanding or suggestion seems vital to you, if you’re seized for an instant, then the response that forms will outlive everything else about the work. From my point of view, that is about the most an artist can ask for, because the response is something more than the work itself. In a sense, the response continues the work of art, only in a different medium.
I try not to become attached to my art while I’m working. I dismiss a protective, cautious attitude, and instead try to maintain a sudden honesty toward the expression of the subject. In this way I often overstep what is recognizable. I destroy the work with too much life, and have to work backwards to unfetter it from its creator.
In the end, no one work says what I want it to. As a collection I suppose I’m getting closer. But I’m obsessed with the idea that the secrets to expression are arrived at through untold hours and countless unsavory efforts. Until then, until I’m satisfied that as an artist I’m working in the fullness of my abilities, then what is left at the end of the day is hardly more than some crude evidence that I was here.