I worked all of November in the dazzling, illuminated tall space of the new studio, painting with some tired colors and a rusty process that was no longer alive.  It was painful and unchanging, with dark days of autumn reflecting the mood.

At last, I gave up completely the idea of painting and began to simply live in the studio, day after day, bringing nourishment for body and soul:  art related books and magazines, Japanese tea, piano concertos, breakfast lunch and dinner.  Lovely but grim at first.

Gradually, in all that quiet space and time, a tree or spine form and the space around it, began to form in my mind's eye.

Canvases very wet, grays, blacks, dark greens over weird yellow under paintings, slamming paint filled brushes along edges for the joy and freedom of the process, rather than for the result, discovering new cause/affects.  Discovery is so vital to keeping one's art alive, thrilling!

When completing this 12' piece, I realized the series would be called "Ground and Space".  I'd been wallowing in space, and lacking ground!  The studio enveloped me; I enveloped the studio. It has been a warm embrace.