I overheard some people on the tram talking about outer space as though our planet wasn’t in it, wasn’t revolving around a star like the others, like we were unchained.
I sometimes forget how to draw pain or pleasure, happiness and sadness, can’t figure out how to draw calm, draw stress. I’ve stolen images from family, friends, girlfriends and strangers, copying until they become mine, become me. I assume in time everyones work becomes everyones work. Everyones pictures become everyones pictures. It’s difficult for me to explain these 5 paintings, or rather it’s difficult months after making them to remember what I was feeling.