Scale your intent to your wingspan
Some of my paintings are densely packed with forms that read like fields of uniformly distributed activity. Others are like objects suspended in a not fully specified firmament. This one is in the group where the forms are spare and read like glyphs, or characters in an alphabet. These essential forms are to my visual vocabulary what phonemes are to spoken language, what Amy Silman might call the ‘basic unit’ of my creative practice.
If I go once around and close it off, I get one of these wards against entropy, if you will. If I keep going, string more characters together, the simple symmetry breaks, which makes room for more complex harmonies where you can still see the basic units, but in combinations that dissolve and coalesce depending on where your focus shifts and what you bring to the looking. The more intricate of my paintings give the viewer a sandbox for organizing what they see, in ways that change over time, but only through sustained phenomenological engagement.
Living with these paintings is a completely different experience from looking at them digitally. Not just taking my word for it would be doing yourself a favor.