Freedom is the "phlogiston" of our times. Eventually they'll have to coin a new set of phrases when they want to talk about what that really involves. And as for love, we are like the laity tossing around the technical terms of medieval theologians--who themselves are ignorant of what the mystics have seen.

"I wonder what the country is like. The fields and like that, the strange smells. And, he wondered, where do you find that? Where do you go and how do you get there and stay there? What kind of trip is that, and what kind of ticket does it take? And who do you buy the ticket from?" --Through a Scanner Darkly (1977)

I don't know why i bother to think about art or art's purposes when no one could recognize my works in my doctrines or my doctrines in my works without a field guide. They are twin emanations from this friction with my world, like flames and smoke. But i am determined to know what i'm doing even if that means knowing that most of the time i don't and can't know what i'm doing (The Sleepwalker School). The pleasure i get in ordering is a trivial one and the resultant order doesn't last for long. What i discover goes back into the unconscious ferment, though. And that reflectivity must show in the changes my work has undergone, if not in any single object. Unlike most artists, i think about my art in order to upset my sense of security from them; the more uncomfortable it makes me, the better i think i have succeeded in digging deeper or flying higher; strangeness doesn't guarantee truth, but truth is always strangeand found nowhere else. A person (who herself painted) once said after looking at CARNIVOROUS EQUATIONS 2, "You're sick." To which i responded, "I sincerely hope so."