Every now and then I start on a piece, inspired by some idea or some process. And like many pieces it grows from there. And it grows and grows.
The ideas come fast and furious and just pile on.
Pretty soon it's a big blob of swirling, gurgling sound.
And I change from an artist with a blank sketch pad to a sculptor attempting to find beauty in a large hunk of rock.
Sometimes I despair that there is no beauty in the mound of sound.
Should I leave it behind, move on to the next piece? Will I be able to find this place again? Is this place even worth revisiting?
I have no answers. Only similar, perhaps more naive, questions that many, much wiser before me have asked.
Postfauxpocalypse Excerpt No. 5
12 hours ago