I started making watercolors about eight years ago, and one of the most wonderful things about the process is that you just never stop learning. And, with watercolors, it seems, a lot of the learning process isn't exactly learning at all: rather it's a type of insight into the mysteries of paint and life.

To begin, the important thing to understand is that I don't have much talent. I encourage artistic participation because I believe that periods of creation benefit people; thus, the creative results aren't so important. So, needless to say, a lot of my watercolors turn out lousy, and, you know, I have little attachment to them.

See, that's how this whole thing started: that, and reading Henry Miller, who advocated experimentation. So, I'd have a watercolor, it was lousy, and I was curious. So, I'd start doing things with the watercolor like dropping it into the tub when I was taking a shower. Or, I'd put bricks on the corners and leave it in the yard for a week: let it soak up the sun, rain, and other varied environmental intangibles.

Well, just use your imagination. If I happened to be eating a hamburger, I might just have to smear a little ketchup and mustard into the painting. Or perhaps grind a pickle into the man's watercolor face. Hmmm....the pickle added some interesting green highlights to the cheeks. Or, I might walk across it with muddy shoes, grinding my heel in good and proper: this gives the paper a fascinating texture. Then I might let that soak in the sink overnight: submerged in peroxide of course...

What I discovered is that these curious acts often force what I refer to as Watercolor Serendipity: that is Accidental Watercolor Good Fortune. The changes brought about by the seemingly anti-artistic act (heel or pickle grinding etc.) hint at the next conscious volition assertion. The random change brings new ideas. And, you just tape the paper back down and get the brushes out and attack...um, I mean paint! I'll add that something about the whole thing makes me wonder if anything is random.