Distillation process. January 2017

Day 1

I go to the studio in the morning of the first day of the New Year. I am not sure what I am going to do but I know I must go. I work on some old small canvas that has been left half finished. In a half-hearted attempt, I push paint around and make a mess. I am frustrated.

Then it hits me like a bolt of lightning. I need to stop and start again. I need to relearn, reprogram. I need to exorcise the old ways and ideas. A distillation must occur to really move forward. A new process needs to unfold. 

I tape up a piece of newsprint paper on the wall. I limit my palette to charcoal, yellow and white. I draw shapes that come naturally to me. I do not think, I move. I can only apply the paint with my fingers. The tips of my fingers smear the yellow and the white in just the right places. I am allowed one water cup and one brush. I begin again. The brush can be dipped in the clean water to wash out the charcoal and move the paint around and thin it out with water once it has been applied by fingers. 

I will make 6 of these paintings each day. These are not archival paintings. Everything is temporary. I will do this every day for the rest of the month. 

It feels like a type of prayer
It feels confessional
It feels like an exorcism
It feels exciting
In tune with the process, materials, identity
A distillation process
I don't want to depend on the old knowledge
I listen to this.