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A lot of people have shown me a lot of enthusiasm for the big painting, Path of the Aspens, and I thank you for your very generous words. That painting is kind of a monument of achievement for me, actually, but maybe not for the apparent reasons: i.e. that it was painstaking, that it sets a lovely sylvan mood, that it is pretty and it sparkles, that it is quite large for me lately. I was aware, of course, of those qualities while I worked, as well as of other, more technical, formal concerns. Thing is, none of those is the basis for my sense of accomplishment. Those are all things I have been able to do, and have done, for a long time, though not at all recently.

Two questions, then. Why don’t I focus on painting big landscapes, and why do I keep producing those verdammten wavy, weird figures?

After all, I too am pleased with the outcome of that painting of a wooded scene. I am encouraged to paint more in that vein, very encouraged. Thing is, I cannot repeat that particular creative act because, as such, it was one of a kind. I saw the aspen scene in the mountains and I immediately got to work answering its call to represent it in that particular way. Nothing about that process was new, except for its context, which made it a difficult painting for me, as I wrote in a recent blogpost. The battle that ensued was what was new, a particular battle over an invisible creative act.

Despite great internal resistance I was able to honor and materialize an inspiration that didn’t fit with my recent work, except that it was there, asking to be realized, and I answered, fully aware that the most creative part of the project was that it was unusual for me.

If I paint another like Path of the Aspens, it cannot possibly embody that particular struggle; I would have other reasons for it, and those reasons cannot lure me away from my surrealistic nudes.

My delight, and my calling right now, is the invention of colorful abstracted figures. They may be subject to all kinds of critical censure, but then any kind of painting might be. They also afford me the opportunity to dream up fantastical settings, and these, together with the unlikely figures, inspire me to dream up all sorts of colors and patterns, constructed with respect for composition, color and content. This is as good as I’ve ever had, and for me it is terrifically exciting.

Meanwhile, I am inspired to work on all sorts of other projects, and I have no intention of abandoning them. I may very well paint other large, detailed, fat-pointillistic landscapes, for my own reasons, with no intention of making a series or a body of work around them, but just because, like many of my other projects, they just ask to be done.

So here is my offer to any of you (I know there are some) who urge me to concentrate on large detailed landscapes: No.

But I will keep my eyes open to possibilities. If a prospect presents itself, I will accept the assignment.