So you paint the pictures as you might walk through the places, and you notice features and ask yourself questions about this and that as you go. Your painting is like walking, and you don’t know what the scenery will look like until you come upon it. The drawing as it unfolds depicts the real landscape, and you are moving through its spaces vicariously by the act of drawing. And the thoughts along each passage are like footsteps.
Sometimes the point is just to be living. Doing work, having a schedule, being busy, being responsible even — they are all necessary parts of life. But I found too that walking down the hallway and noticing the carpet gives me a different relatedness to time. And noticing whatever just happens to be around — not in an artistic way, but in a very non-artistic way — I discovered that this is important too. Sometimes you have to take time to just notice that life is here all around you.
There is a way of being that is to life/work/responsibility what a scribble is to painting.
I thought that being an artist made me a better observer — and in a technical sense, it’s probably true that artists observe some aspects of things more astutely than do the non-artists. But I failed to realize that paying attention to things without making any purpose of it — to merely look around, to watch and wander through at least parts of the day — I discovered that I needed this. It has been like taking a vacation to another planet.
Only the planet is this planet. I have landed on earth. And it’s a pretty nice place.