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December 6, 2002
I started three paintings. Every few days, I scrape away the dried paint and start over. Miniature landscapes of roads leading nowhere, with signs warning of elusive dangers ahead. Flash flood warning. Do not enter. Keep out. There are no traveler’s on these lonely roads. They wind through sparse deserts and barren mountains, spaces that lies between one place and another. In the distance I paint dust tornado’s and unexplainable explosions. Smoke signals dissipating in a cloudless sky, where you can see the heat pulsing upwards from the plains. I want to drive past the signs into the danger zone.