I have been exploring the poetic and metaphorical qualities of the paint that wanted to escape. For some time now I have pondered what paint would want to be if it were free from the pull of the paint brush, free from the call of the canvas and able to climb, crawl slide and sneak away from the perils of the palette. What if paint rose to the Modernist claim that paint should refer to itself, in an ironic attempt to adapt itself to this cul de sac of a command? Well it has, small creature like forms have taken shape and wait to be adored and admired for what they really are. The possibilities are endless in paints' quest to be itself...it no longer wants to be Other! It wants to be free.... and its time to set it free! That's all I have to say on the matter.