I think about:
How expressive gesture is a kind of self inscription. How the stroke is alive as it moves through time and, like time, is ultimately fleeting, ephemeral. How layers impregnated with ink or pigment are a metaphor for non-linear time and can be seen as an archaeology of the unconscious impulse. Shit like that.
Poetry in motion…
There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. - Martha Graham, Dancer and Choreographer
