Before becoming an artist I was a scientist. Last night reminded me much of a night I remember during my undergraduate education. It was the night before a final exam in Physics. Back then I could not stop the formulas and ideas about everything from mechanics to electricity and magnetism from spilling into my head. I tossed and turned and saw images and formulas flash in and out. It was not a night of rest. More like a night of an onslaught. I could not escape then, and I could not escape last night. There was no peace to be found. Last night I could not stop the forms I am finding in my art from being in my head. They were omni-present, visual and dream-like. These forms composed themselves into pictures. They were brittlely real. Shattering in my mind, then moving onto a new composition, one after another. Wild, uncontrollable, disconcerting. Yet, I feel, as I did back then before the Physics exam, that this is a clue to the soundness of my knowledge. True knowledge is imbedded within me. The art I am making has authenticity. It rings true, as my understanding of Physics rang true. There is a call here. I have arrived at something truly important to me.
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