Another gift from the Art Pixies who come in the night and leave things for me.  Things I never dreamed of painting myself.  Things that seem at once familiar and strange to me.

You have to understand that I’m not a follower of “automatic writing” or “automatic painting” or the idea of art rising out of my depths.  I’m a follower of doing the work.  A follower of, “Painting is about paint.” So I do the work and I paint.

When I finished this one, the colors reminded me a little of Van Gogh.  Please understand, I am in no way comparing my work to his – it’s just the colors.

But the color of the circle/ball/orb in this one really belongs to Frank, so I thought perhaps he and Vincent had something to say to each other.  I hope it’s more than the weather.

Who knows, really, where abstract images come from?  For me, it’s still all color, all the time.  Adding the discrete circles is new, and they’re challenging.  They’re also imperfect, the space within the circles broken or incomplete.

It’s easy to make assumptions or to assign meaning beyond what’s on the canvas.

Here’s what’s on the canvas:  Paint.