On top of a tall wooden dresser, I find a thick book of collage/paintings. It feels like a rich rediscovery. It is my work from the past. I show it to somebody, turning a few pages to show the sumptuous variety and rich evocative quality of the pieces, saying, “This is my work.” As soon as I say this, I correct myself, saying, “This is what I could have done, every day.” I say this because I see these are exploratory notes and sketches, not finished presentations. The revelation is that inspiration comes from playing with the materials, not from waiting for an idea.
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