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August 22, 2001

I keep thinking about those last paintings I did in the Bakah apartment before I moved studios.  Those dark dense ones.  There’s something there that I need to try again.  The push.  The push, the push, the push.

If you don’t push, you don’t know.

You don’t know if the door opens.

Sometimes it’s clear to me that I’m too careful in my work, too methodical, missing the fuck-all.

It’s time again, time again, to take it more seriously, to forget the rest of the garbage and try for the thing that counts —

To care.  To really care.  To really try for it.

Why the hell not?  You’ve got something better to do?  As de Kooning put it, “It’s just as silly not to.”



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