Sometimes I think that the process of creating art, i.e. photographing, sketching on trains, painting stains on cotton canvas, sitting and listening to music, glueing scraps of paper, smudging oil on clothes, I sometimes think it is something just of my own world, my own subjective interpretation, or understanding, of this world around my eyes, and that maybe it isn't so important.

But then when the art itself, by itself, looks back at me, it is a look of powerful Spirit and greater than anything I intended, immersing my self into the art so deep that it is now impossible to abandon this life of creation, or so it feels. To look at the process, to see it developing and docking like the boats at bay, buzzes the mind and brings a joy to the Spirit.