in more complicated qualities of what paint can do. So here we have more translucent paint, and the brush-markings and the drips. I try to let  the paint evoke expression and motion, more than a flat, geometrically bounded piece of paint can do. Q: What was the last gesture you made on this work? A: I'm not sure. It might have been the green paint on the wires, extending the green from the fabric to the wires. And it might have been these yellow-green drips on the ladder. It could be either of those. Q: I just realized there's another way I could have phrased that, but it's also another question: how do you know a work is done? A: That is a different question. I don't think there's any single finished point for a work. It's done when something's happening with the work that feels like a balanced, coherent disharmony. That's one way to say it. And where if I keep working on it, to discover and struggle with new problems, I'll obliterate the ones I was working on. I could keep working on it, but it'd become something different. And I value what's here, at the moment.