PHOTOS

When I moved my paints and easel from my neighborhood in the 14^th to the center of Paris, I became more and more bothered by photo-takers.

Creative motivation has to do with projecting attention on the passive. e.g.. what is being created.

For the observer, what you are looking at is not me. Perhaps, it looks like me. The real me is on the canvass, or the real me is what you are listening to. Me is the assemblage of words on this page. God is perceived by his creations. For example. 

Therefore, for someone to come up and take a photo of me painting “me” was worse than the  invasion of the Huns, if not sinful. I hated it and always refused.

When I moved to Montmartre, it was a daily crisis. I was not a mime, sword sallower,  or juggler.. Didn’t they understand that I was working? That was years ago. Pre-digital and lying to myself.

When, I returned to working outside almost a year ago, the ritual returned. It was “no” in any language or shake my finger "no-no"  in those who spoke nothing.

Then, when I was painting the courtyard on  rue Daurantin, one of the residents asked if she could take some pictures.  She sent them to me by email. It was interesting  to watch the creative process as the outsider.

Now, when I go out to work,  I take along my  cards with my email address.  When I see the camera coming, I have one  ready.

I  now realize now, that I am on stage. I am a  mime.  I am a juggler. Yes, and if I look at my life, I am certainly a sword sallower as well.

But I'm still just making  paintings . The route is different. The destination the same-putting "me" there.