![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGibQNjnr_230zkP6NX1wfecP9o2AyJ_exbFwLYa_3uBkUjb8lGZL5hp6ZpKnhU16TIzGmdrcjFMLeLo4N02os41WBFnJw9jIv7xe8LD8AEYh6WsG5HaY_6Ds8jFAGLdv84711q8xdDnw/s400/Fakefurcoatfinal.jpg)
The tragic and banal aspects of all beginning that is actually already a middle haunt every painter. There is no beginning- poiesis is already a middle. Confusion that ideas create, the lingering mind oscillating between ideas and the eager bodily respose, however, never able to repeat what it wants to repeat. All this confusion condenced in a painting, all these layers of unsuccess, yet something new and surprising emerging. All the rules of propriety in painting - in vain.