To play is to listen to the imperative inner force that wants to take form and be acted out without reason.

Painting for process is the visual equivalent of journal writing, done not for the sake of being seen or published, but purely for the telling itself.

We have within us enormous reserves of trapped potential. Our natural urges have been so constrained by the accommodations of living that we each have a smoldering volcano just below the surface. To enable this force to erupt in a healthy, open, and positive manner is a momentous act.

You do not use art as a means to an end, but as a way to inhabit and explore the present. Right and wrong fade away; you recover your sense of what is authentic in you.

Chaos is the soul of creation. It plows the ground of intuition. Without chaos, nothing will grow.

If you listen inside, the brush will want to run toward a color. What you really need and want is very close, and the brush goes to it quickly if you don't think.

The unfolding of the unexpected becomes the energy that drives you. You discover how thirsty you are for exploration without analysis. You become strangely at home in a place you can't define. You are truly creating.