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Painting without knowing what will happen calls forth a sensation that I am inhabiting the becoming painting from its interior looking out - in such moments it is not that the painting is  'talking' to me, rather, I am the painting trying to make the painter feel what needs to happen in the next moment. Warehouses have (mostly) provided spaces uniting aspects of studio and dwelling throughout my adult life. The blending of modes is interesting, as I can understand, by a slightly stretched analogy, this collapse of formalities as mirroring my experience of identity flux when painting.

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