The question: impossible?

We are human beings. None of us can do more than this or that. In painting, you are doing this. In  doubting, you are doing that.

Paint. 

Paint anything that will build a world.

Those foolish brains, or brainless ones, who react to something- anyone can play an idiotic game with them. Throw a sausage one way- they run in a predictable way. Throw a bomb(?) that way and, again, they run in a predictable way. You can play them so well that these zombies run exactly the way you want them to run.

-and yet these (people) runners will say: life is unfathomable, unpredictable, unforeseeable, therefore you can do nothing about it. These sad fools...

Just step aside, rest, let everybody run, see them run- just rest.

Paint.

Not by reaction, but out of joy. Celebrate quietly. If you do not like a smoker's breath, take your beloved one, on a quiet day, up a higher hill. Test the air, see if you like it. When you feel well- paint. Record (not "react"). Record this well-being with hues of well-being. What are the hues of well-being? That is for you to find out. Try. Do various slow, gentle applications of paint on canvas, paper, cardboard, rock, metal...

Feel- think- act. Slowly. Ever so open to sense: Is that feeling of well-being with your beloved ones still there? Is it increasing? Gone?

ANY REACTION to the nonsense which surrounds us daily is more nonsense!

Move with the best of your feelings, the best of your thoughts, the best of your actions. You will know- you will feel in yourself, in your beloved ones, the ever so gentle stirrings. These gentle stirrings will change, in thousands of years, our society. Nothing, absolutely nothing, will change it now. Just allow infinite time, by doing whatever you can:

a painting out of well-being.

May 28, 1984