We used to talk about an artist's painting as a shield the artist went through life with on their fore arm. That the flatness was it's strength.
I wanted to make a intrusion into the subconscious of that surface. I used to clap my hands and say there! That immediacy was the moment the surface reality existed, when one was really living.
The painting consisted of a black and white painting and a fiberglass panel, John McCracken helped me fashion. The red and yellow panel seemed a cropping device for a painting that went on into the infinite space of everything there is. A clap of the hands and here! it is at the surface, or moment seen.
I was reading Irving Sandler's The Triumph of the American Painting. He talked alot about the Myth Maker's, I think was a heading to a chapter. I carried that big book around for a while.
I was going back and forth to California and New York.
I had already made some mythic characters like hieroglyphics they were every where especially in graffiti.
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