Friday, October 15, 2010


From one of 100 or so index cards I typed in 2003, when I stopped painting for a few months (includes original typos):

"This is my protest. Perhaps it serves no one but me, butthat,s not unusualin art. I want to give the people what they want, but I,m not a Social Realist. Is that what they want? Different people want different things, even in these shared disaster times. How important is art wwhen you8re hungry? How important is art when your legs have been blown off; when you8re imprisoned; deported; bombed; on Death Row; bereaved; afraid; dying; deperate; trapped; powerless; angry; sick; outnumbered; scorned; forgotten; ignored; dispossessed; suicidal; damaged beyond repair; slipping further and further down; lost; tricked; poisoned;used; undone. How important is art to youhthen? Do you need beauty, do you crave serenity?"