some of the strategies involved in my paintings and drawings:
One of my favorite buzzphrases is "the politics of distraction", referring to the tangle of changing forces pulling on the front edge of your senses. I try to make visual fields that no matter where you look, something else is pulling on you, and when you look there or there, you're pulled away again. Eventually what starts to happen is your foveal (sharp, central point focussed) visual system starts to give up, and your field vision system starts to kick in, and then the entire field starts to resonate and shift, and shift again. I'm looking to evoke a kind of undifferentiated quantum state, where there's a lot of velocity, but no resolved position, pure language. It's like there are several paintings competing to emerge, and none of them win, or they all do.
Most art ends up in a frame, which creates a sharp break between the internal space and the context around. By pulling the frame into the object, and tucking it around the side, the painting becomes not a window or an exit, but an inclusion, pushing into and directly engaging the space and the other objects and energies in it. The rounded edge further emphasizes the frontality. I really like when the paint feels flat, or even when it seems to be coming forward; this sets up a further tension when the eye gets sucked into the space of the image, getting pulled in and then pushed back out.
When I paint, I usually work very quickly, skittering away from urges as soon as they form, always trying to skip off whatever line my intuition says to take, pushing, dodging, duck and run then duck again. If I can't surprise myself then why bother? It's not so much about getting ideas as getting away from them, finding the spaces between and beyond.
All of it is just a means to create something that sustains curiosity, never really quite resolves, somehow staying in that perpetual state of becoming. Perhaps this comes from a fear of death, or a desire to master it, not sure. Or maybe I want to make something that actually feels alive. Or all of the above. All I really want art to do is to continue to tickle me for as long as I own it; when I stop looking at a piece with new wonder I have no further use for it*. I have several pieces on my walls that I've looked at for years, and I always see something new when I look at them.
An associated goal is to eventually make people conscious of the urges of their visual/perceptual system, to bring unconscious processes to the foreground, to expose the hidden structures of perception, blow the game. Among other things, this can be quite therapeutic.
Once someone takes a piece home, its previous history falls away, and it becomes an architectural element, something to help them flavor their environment, basically a giant bauble. To insist otherwise is just pretentious; it's why people own art, to contrive a connection to whatever they want to imagine they are. I'm not trying to be all things to all people, not by any means. I'm just looking to provide edification services, so people can have a reminder that there are things beyond their imagination and desires. Seems to me that would make a nice addition to most any environment.
*the third-stupidest thing anyone ever said to me was courtesy of Hans Haacke, a supremely intellectual artist I had for a professor at Cooper Union, when he told me no artist could possibly create something that is mysterious to himself. Needless to say, his work is incredibly clever and abstruse, and leaves me quite cold.