I prayed, I used to not think of it as a prayer, not if I spoke to God that way. But it was sincere, so much had happened to me, so much pain, anger, hope and hope lost. It came out as an honest cry for help. Not a nice cry, a frustrated yell, "God!!!, come on!.. throw me a bone!!!" I didn't think anything good would come of that. Alone in my studio late at night, I tried one more time to get something to come together on this flat lifeless panel. I was in a block. I mixed paint in containers blue, yellow, tan. I dumped it out over the surface, I threw the yellow and threw the blue, added some black and then left the room. When I left the paint moved and flowed, it ran slightly from left to the right. I had done something similar many times before and all I saw was random mess of paint that looked just like you might imagine, chaos. But when I came back into the room an hour later I saw something that looked like a bison. So I put a tail on it. I let the mess of paint dry for a week then took a closer look at it. At first I was not super excited about the painting but as I put together the image it all fit together. The breath, the front leg, the face, it felt surreal that it all was coming together so perfectly. What are the chances that all these elements can line up so well. I deleted nothing. I used a wash over some of the areas to bring the bison into focus. I never got tired of looking at this painting and was happy and sad when it sold. The fun thing about it for me is I don't take all the credit. I can look at it much like anyone else would. The other nice thing about this is if it goes wrong I don't have to take all the responsibility either. This style is part of my process, it is foolish to relly totally on the powers that be to paint my painting. but for miracles to show up you have to let go of a certain amount of control without just making a mess. I'm trying to get my head around how to live my life in the same way.