I am exploring a new neighbourhood.
Any time I am out of my comfort zone I have a blankness in my brain. All the chatter turns to white noise. I don't know why my brain does this, a kind of emptying out, preparing to receive.
I know people who see conspiracy in everything. Or God in every system, the devil in the details. In the city it is easy to see what one is looking for. Most of life it is sheer accident what one sees, what one notices; the deer running down a driveway, a friend on a busy street corner..
An avatar, a savior.
A warning.
Like the Khabbalah the math is everywhere, ones and zeros combining and separating.
When I work on my boxes, this is what I am doing; looking for signs. They are each a story I haven't told yet, but one that exists somewhere. They all have a truth that is immutable, even if words can be arranged and rearranged, exchanged and refined to tell it.
sometimes I think of painting as if I am tracking a wild animal...
