When asked what I am trying to say with my paintbrush, I have to confess that I am not trying to say anything - but I am trying to find something.  I believe that if I can find that ‘something’ that I am searching for, then and only then will my painting say something - something I had not an idea about in the first place.  I worry away at the paint, pushing it here and there... the subject matter permanently in peril of transformation, or even obliteration.  The painting could end up upside down or even sideways on.  I feel intensely that if I scrub away and work the canvas hard enough with my paintbrush, I might eventually get behing the subject and the paint into a place where I might just find what I am looking for.

Below my words, above my thoughts,
hidden somewhere in the images I paint,
behind the haunting notes of my melody
only just out of earshot
only just out of sight
this unknowing haunts me
and never leaves me in peace.