Most of my days are split between activities - I have not had a long, eight-hour workday in studio in a month. The transition of summer to fall might have something to do with it. I am able to carve out three or four hour blocks to make art: I park my car, open the studio door, close it behind me and set my phone to “do not disturb.” I open the cap to the gallon of matte medium, pour it into a yogurt lid and un-crust my brush. Sometimes I sit in a metal folding chair, but most of the time I stand if I am listening to music. I like the freedom of dropping my tools and dancing when the song is right.
If there is a leftover page from the National Geographic that I didn’t finish the day before, I will pick it up and start tearing half-inch pieces. Otherwise, I will rip the first fresh page off of the stack. I am halfway done with my first magazine: January 1971. It is built with layers of paper, plenty of words and a finger on the collective unconscious. It is hard work, sorting through thoughts and intuitive impulses.