That is a question I often ask myself – on days when everything fails, when it is as if all colours combat and obliterate each other.
Days when I only take small steps, which thereafter turn out to be steps backwards. And I start all over again. Maybe I add a new colour to the palette to see what it can make. Change the form and try to figure out if there is a hidden story in the painting waiting to be told. Fear at the same time that the sincerity will disappear in mannerism and too much volition.
On such days the thought might turn up that it is not worth the effort and that the challenge might be too immense.
But then suddenly it is like the ties loosen, as if there is a free passage from the innermost rooms past the restrictions of consciousness. As if I paint with a led hand. Form and colour tones chime.
These are happy days. They are the days that make me continue my wrestling with the canvas.
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