A koan is the question that cannot be solved by thinking. You sit with it until the part of you that wants to solve it gives out. What is left is the answer. The painting works the same way. Yellow, red, and slate fill it top to bottom. Standing forms crowd the whole surface: cones, bells, small domes, vessels with drawn line running over and through them. There is no entry point, no center, nothing that resolves.
Look for a place to begin and the canvas declines to offer one. Drawn line covers it in graphite, blue, and gold. Two small figures stand at the lower left, the only ones with a body. Nearly seven feet tall. Saturated, dense, and built to be lived with rather than read in one pass. It holds a tall wall and rewards standing close, where the individual forms separate out of the field.
