I want to hear the low hum of the work itself, its little voice that whispers in my ear. When I am not paying attention it is evident in the paintings, they all see it. I can not get over exactly how much you can communicate on the canvas as if the underwear of your soul is sticking out of the back of your pants. It is really sort of uncomfortable to be so on display, but what I have to say demands me to push on forward anyway despite all that. Unnerving really, does he see everything? I am so tired today and now, sort of defeated feeling really, overwhelmed. I don't think I was wearing my best underwear!