These pictures are from a walk I took down the road. As I walked I opened myself to the liminal world that is always right in front of us but most of the time we are lost in our thoughts and don’t notice the array of information available to us. We are continually surrounded by images from many levels of awareness. To make these available to us we can become clueless as if we had no idea what anything is around us, all of a sudden when become porous the world starts to become available to us, the world offers itself to us when we see with a beginners mind.
We can do the same thing with painting. Each paint stroke can become a marvel, a curiosity. Let go of the ownership of the stroke, it has a life of its own. How do these scrawls on paper exist? What is it like to act and live the life of the painting?
