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painting is a miracle dance, eyes flouting in a space of manipulative information and nothingness.The viewer’s eyes and ears are not capable of perceiving the depth of the passing moment that is portrayed in the painting.
Can a line in itself satisfy a hungry eye?  Can a spot create vibrations in the viewer’s heart? A line, a spot and a figure or maybe first of all, spots, then lines, then we can force them into a figure or two. What is my subject? And what is happening inside the painting? And are they necessary as mediators between the viewer and the painting? The first line is a sketch without thought, then I lay turpentine that diminishes the paint and I let it spread on its own sideways, that would ease the viewer’s eye, but then I attack with reds, light red and medium red cadmium. How do the hues I’ve chosen make me feel? Will these feelings change with the passing of days, weeks or months? One of my professors once told me that painting is like a long ride to an unknown destination, but in order to sharpen one senses and perception, we must travel to these unwanted places; even if we  stop at much more interesting spots along the way. Honestly, I don’t think I have anything to look for in that far destination, but I do know that I must pass through this way before I will get to Berlin.