I am a painter. What happens to me during the process of painting is what makes me want to do it again and again. Every time it is a little different from the time before. While each painting changes, I, the painter, am changed as well.

Painting is a language. It has all the same features: letters, punctuation marks, words, grammar, historic reference, dialects, rhythm, poetry and humor. And just like spoken language, painting needs a physical carrier for its expression. Speech can take place only when there is air, a tongue and vocal cords. Similarly, painting can only happen when there is paint, a surface and a painter’s body.

A painting is a recorded dialogue between painter and canvas. When the painter changes the canvas, it responds, talks back, tells the painter what it needs and requires. The painter gladly obeys during this intimate part of the process. Always, always, always, a problem arises.

The painter may be challenged to try many different solutions with great courage and daring, one after the other. All the time the painting gets more and more layered, more intricate, mature and rich. And all that time the painter watches and learns, changed with each painting; usually humbler, wiser, and more grateful.

The viewer looks at the result of this process, where the painted layers are the physical deposition of that dialogue, revealing part of the process of action and response between the artist and the work.

So much more happens when painting,...