This is not a product. Not a "painting". If it were a painting, it would be very contrived and common. Instead, it is evidence of a process.
I was teaching high school art in Los Angeles on September 11. I had one hour to myself every day to sit and stare and wonder. 2nd period. I found it very gratifying to layer paint on a canvas board. Over and over, more and more paint. Fingers, brushes, pencil erasers. More and more paint, weighing down the canvas with it's muddy thickness. Not a picture of anything. Nothing but something to do for an hour before I had to go back to pretending I was concerned about anyone else's well-being but my own. Something to do while I thought about how much my head hurt all the time. "You just tell us what would be best for YOU." Well I think probably it would be best for me if my brother was not murdered.