Just riffing in the studio, seeing where the marks take me and experimenting with a different kind of phrasing – one phrase or eventual line is dislocated by a subsequent mark – making way for another mark or line and obscuring what might have been the subject. The object always seems beyond reach foregrounding the moment. The moments of contact and phrasings build into gestures. Again destroyed. Why? Is it because I do not know what I am doing? No. It’s because the idea of riffing and playing is just that – an idea, short of becoming a thing.
These are just ruses. Just a feint index or memento of antecedents.
Make sense? It does to me. They are all becomings. That’s why it’s pleasurable.