When I am painting I have a general notion as to what I am about. I can control the flow of paint: there is no accident.
No artist produces great art by a deliberate attempt to express his own personality.
There's a kind of slowness and inefficiency about rendering text in paint. We're in a world that's very fast, so things that slow you for a minute-give you pause-are good.
The thing has already taken form in my mind before I start it. The first attempts are absolutely unbearable. I say this because I want you to know that if you see something worthwhile in what I am doing, it is not by accident but because of real direction and purpose.
In every good poem everything must be both deliberate and instinctive. That is how the poem becomes ideal.
When you watch a Coen brothers movie, it is always so certain about what it is trying to portray. That is their strength. The minute they write a word, they know how it will look on-screen. They are very purposeful, with no kind of mistakes.
I do think there is a link between the accidental art the sciences produce and the deliberate art the artist creates, but I can't help feeling that the innocence of the accidental art of science has a power and curious beauty that artists are hard-pressed to match.
Art happens when anyone in the world takes any kind of material and fashions it into a deliberate statement.
