My
gestures began to slow down from their Crucibull fever-pitch,
and I became interested in some gestures becoming highly distinct
from others, the object-hood of distinct gestures.
I started
grabbing
white office paper
and throwing down gestures using whatever came to hand:
ballpoint pens, watercolor, crayons, gouache.
In some
cases I'd
throw down a pattern, then toss it aside and not see it
again until a few days later. Then I'd head back into it
again with a new perspective.
A theme began to emerge on its
own. They began to look like scenes from a weird religious opera.
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