I looked at my collection of images this morning in order to find something to blog about. I stumbled upon a painting I made in 2009 which happened within ten minutes and I knew it was perfect; I did not dare change or add anything. Sometimes our intention to create something is matched so beautifully by the harmonious flow of events, that we even feel we can not really take any credit for it. It is our work, but a greater force moved us. (Were the "stars" aligned in our favour? Did we sleep well the night before? ...)
We were involved, but we were simply the obliging participants following the scraper that manipulated the paint and then the golden orange dot emerged somehow to give it the stamp of approval. The "poetry in motion" bypassed our minds, but we understood when the final product silently emerged and "spoke" to us in haste.
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