Where the work rests

To be precise in process.

One painting a week would be 52 pieces a year.

Brilliant, Gómez Peña said in one of his talks (i paraphrase here) that the role of the artist is to explore the darkest corners of human existence. Robert Longo (paraphrasing here as well) said that the artist’s work is about [their] truth.

I think about these two ideas and their relationship to one another and to the condition of ‘god awful fucking nuts and desperate but, obviously, not god awful fucking nuts and desperate enough to give up working’.

Perhaps that is where crazy wisdom steps in – a kind of Dharmic survival.

To be in the moment, to acknowledge that it is god awful fucking nuts and desperate and to ride that. Figure out how to ride the god awful desperate psychological truth of the situation.

That is where the work rests.

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