When I begin to paint, I always have a guiding idea — but the brush rarely obeys it. The paintings take a form of their own, one that belongs to the world rather than to my concepts of it.
What emerges is not just landscape, but bodies — clouds, mountains, and flesh, all part of one indivisible tissue. There is no line separating the curve of a torso from the crest of a mountain, no difference between the seen and the seer. We are always already in and of the flesh of the world.
— after Merleau-Ponty, with Dan Chyutin
