Judy Glantzman, Heroes, A Flag

The artist has to invent the machine that makes art, like learning to write a sentence that shows you its meaning. Go in and come back with a hint, a map, of what you see inside. Suggestion, implying what is underneath, behind, before, or after, is the job of art. That way there is room for the viewer, the participant. The rule of the studio, which I do not always succeed in following, is that if a thought pops in my head, I have to act on it. “What does impulse look like?” The way a pianist, practicing the scales, might hear a melody, I concentrate on exploring the relationship between the factual, the structural, and get out of our own way to allow the “melody” to show itself to us. Non-judgment; to see your work as separate from yourself.