My friend Paul decided that he'd come and see my older works and what I had been painting while we were on the phone. So that's what we did last night.
He's a writer—a storyteller—and he came with some short pieces he had written. I had a chalky yellow canvas and snippets of images that I was hoping to use at some point for something or other. So while we talked and I listened to his stuff, I tried pieces of paper out on my chalky yellow board. Again, the distraction of his art kept me from having to drown in my own, so I was at the periphery again. And it was fun letting him watch the process. I tried not to behave any differently then I would have otherwise. He'd toss words of encouragement from time to time. And though I couldn't see it because I was all up in my piece, I was actually making something.