I was looking for something new—something different to work on. I had been working with primarily black ink pens for about a year, and wanted to branch out. I started out—tentitavely at first—to incorporate colored pens, markers, then acrylic and watercolor.
One evening I was wrapping up a recent piece when I accidentally spilled my beverage right on it. My heart stopped. This would affect/ruin several pages! I was horrified! I did my best to carefully absorb the spilled drink without causing more damage... I stewed for a time and eventually retired to bed with a sick pit in my stomach. I had spent days/weeks on these pieces.
The next morning I set out to assess the extent of the destruction. To my surprise, the results were just what I had been looking for—the impetus for the next phase of my artistic endeavors. The way the liquid bled through the pages looked mysterious and beautiful. It also resolved some color issues I’d had with a piece a couple pages back.
Most Sunday’s for several years now, my friend Gary and I get together to listen to music, have coctails, phylosophize and do art. Gary had recently taken on a style of mixing his photography with ink-transfer, collage, watercolor, photocopies, geometric shapes and scribbles. I loved what he was working on and attempted (with limited success) incorporating some of the same principles in my work.
The recent experimentations, the serindipitous spill—it was like a revalation. I would use inks, watercolors, paints, stamps, liquids, collage and whatever materials I could get my hands on.
I was charged. I felt a feverish obsession and motivation to work. For a time I was creating 1-4 spreads per day. Every time I would step away, I felt a compelling urge to get back to it as quickly as I could. I worked early in the morning and late into the night until I filled up the rest of the notebook I had been working in. This project of 39 spreads took roughly 2 months to achieve.