When I complete a painting that feels real - I think afterwards that I have found a way - a road. And my mind races on - painting pictures in my head. Infinite possibilities. What a delusion this is. All the possibilities - oh, at last I know. These are mere notions - proven to be so when you start painting again. They all tumble down when paint is put on. And again you must learn that there is no road -no way - all you possess is the luck to learn to see each time- freshly. Newly.
No good to paint in the head - what happens is what happens when you put the paint down - you can only hope that you are alert - ready - to see. What joy it is for paint to become a thing - a being. Believe in this miracle - it is your only hope. To will this transformation is not possible. Only a slow maturation can prepare the hand and eye to become quicker than ever. Ideas about art don't matter. They collapse anyway in front of the painting.