There is an inaugural sensation to the painting "2017 No.2". It plays with space and light in new ways. It is hopeful in its brightness and clarity. It radiates something new. It is the beginning of a new period of personal artistic substance.
Yesterday's drawing has a black cloud, a wall of stone, and a ground with ominous objects. Yet it is filled with light. Life is good!
My ethical dilemma is visually apparent and alive. You see it in my works shown today. Quandary is the game of art-making! The world, as it is now, enlightens me. I realize this game I play is played on a scale as large as all of us, and it is played on a scale as small as each of us. Optimism or pessimism, no matter; it is the work that instructs and unravels and clears the cobwebs that contain lies, conceit, and truth. Slowly I proceed towards enlightenment, whose hallmark is truth and authenticity. Look at yesterday's three drawings. Compare and contrast them. Each sings a different tune of space and time, yet they were all made by me. This is me under inquisition. The only way I can sustain this is with hope. My hopefulness is based upon experience. I comprehend more than I did the day before. There is a jump here, albeit small, noticeable in its visualization. That is the wellspring of my hopefulness.
On January 18, 1915, six months into the First World War, as all Europe was convulsed by killing and dying, Virginia Woolf wrote in her journal, "The future is dark, which is on the whole, the best thing the future can be, I think." Dark, she seems to say, as in inscrutable, not as in terrible. We often mistake the one for the other. Or we transform the future's unknowability into something certain, the fulfillment of all our dread, the place beyond which there is no way forward. But again and again, far stranger things happen than the end of the world.
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