Omnipresent desire to write/explore something of depth and heft again (or for the first time, depending on your opinion of my work). Not sure where or why it surfaced (or why I'm feeling it so markedly now) – other than that I've been spending so much time on more diversionary, light (for me), and entertaining (for me) things while the saga of The Emptying unfolds (or even, it could be argued, since LAST CHRISTMAS IN JULY) and, while I can't deny that I've been having fun doing these smaller things, there's a distinct feeling of creative 🤷 with all of it. Maybe it's an urge to dive deeper into things, to balance what I perceive as me skimming the surface while massive life changes occur (probably why depth in The Work is eluding me; I am now, if nothing else, neck deep in Life) in the world outside the blackout curtains of The Paintshop with more interrogatory – for want of a better word – fare. All I know is that none of the current projects, in progress or percolating, are grabbing me this morning. Is the solution to retrofit depth into decidedly and purposefully breezy, thrilling pieces? Perhaps I worked them past their sell-by date and I no longer recognize the moment they represent? Maybe. Either way, here I am, as ever (and ever)...

Willem Dafoe, “crazy vampire hunter”

(out of) depth