Here comes the last week of my exhibition. What happened.
A year of painting, 26 years of splashing ink, and smearing oil paint before that. I started in New York and now here I am on this little green hill in Yanaka.
How did this happen? How did it happen so fast?
Good times. Bad times.
This exhibition's bad comes from the days I could not be here. In New York you put your paintings on the wall for a month and you are in the gallery for the opening. In Tokyo people expect to see you every day. Some days I teach. I missed some old friends, and some new ones.
It is something to sit and look at a years work on the wall. People say this year fits together more than others. Perhaps its because of the frames, a unity of frames, and of scale. It is not a big place. Smaller work fits.
I used more color. And a much smaller brush. My favorite brush for the paintings in this show was made out of three thin hairs from the whiskers of a Chinese rat. It makes a very fine line.
So many times in life, a very fine line.
