Painting... In Which The Inner

All My Work Keeps Going Like A Pendulum; It Seems To Swing Back To Something I Was Involved With Earlier, Or It Moves Between Horizontality And Verticality, Circularlity, Or A Composite Of Them. For Me, I Suppose, That Change Is The Only Constant.

In The Late 30s The Name Pollock Was Totally Unknown And Unheard Of.

I Went Into My Own Black-out Period Which Lasted Two Or Three Years Where The Canvases Would Simply Build Up Until They'd Get Like Stone And It Was Always Just A Gray Mess. The Image Wouldn't Emerge, But I Worked Pretty Regularly. I Was Fighting To Find I Knew Not What, But I Could No Longer Stay With What I Had.

My Own Image Of My Work Is That I No Sooner Settle Into Something Than A Break Occurs. These Breaks Are Always Painful And Depressing But Despite Them I See That There's A Consistency That Holds Out, But Is Hard To Define.

I Think Every Once In A While I Feel The Need To Break My Medium... If I Have Been Doing A Very Large Painting I Like To Drop Into Something In Small Scale. It Is A Challenge To Go Into This Size. It Is Just To Hold My Own Interest, And Then Each Media Has Its Own Conditions.