Every morning I make myself a two-cup pot of espresso coffee. This goes into a large bowl and I add equal amount of milk. It is rare that I reverse the order by putting milk in the bowl and then the coffee. When this occurs the coffee does not taste the same. I don't understand why. It just isn't the same. So when I think about art , these miniscule moments of life feel very important. This describes clearly, at least to me the meaning of art. You just can't put the milk in the bowl first.

It used to bother me that I saw a subject to be painted everywhere. It was a look in a person's eye, the beauty of a flower, the landscape as one drives along a familiar road. It used to bother me that I would have all these unfinished canvases in my head zigzagging around never to be started. But I have learned to work in themes of portraits, landscapes, still life, and a series of studies. I can almost say that I need only to make a list of work to be done and thus relax and continue to paint.