I suppose I ought to explain something: For some obtuse reason, I feel I put a little too much effort into a painting to simply dash off, leaving the viewer with a quick explanation of what is surface-level obvious. Nope... I figure I'd rather torture myself by doing two things at the same time; first, plumb my soul to come up with something truly powerful, and second, for it to have a character of personal uniqueness that appropriately translates what I am saying with the piece. Something that causes inplay between artist and viewer. Yeah, that's it. Push things in an interesting direction.

At times, dragging out the name can be tough -- I don't get them for free. The process can be scary as hell. After all, painting is a black hole, a compression of many different emotions; pain, misery, elation, exploration -- so why not reach deep within those personal depths to name the piece? Why not cause myself misery and sift through my drama? -- by the way, where's my therapist?

Maybe I could have gotten poetic and winged off something like "Windblown Wavelets and Reflective Cud-Chewing", but I'd be afraid that naming it so would be a case of anything meaning anything and nothing at the same time...

No, whatever I had to say about my painting had to say something about ALL of the painting. It had to say something about the machine. The flag. The stone-faced riders with attitude -- no, pride. The drama. I want to say something about one thing. I want to say something about everything. It had to say speak BEYOND the painting. I wanted it to address something I responded to when I conceived the image -- the PASSION. And I wanted it to speak to the culmination of 100 years of what "IT" was all about -- and speak to what it will be.

So, I sat and stared at it for a while. Just like I did when it was a white canvas... except not as nervous (because I didn't have to think how many ways I could destroy a perfectly clean, white canvas). A thought... scribble it down and wait for the next candidate to appear. Then scribble that down. Flail myself for the next one and scribble that down.

Slowly, a list was compiled and reviewed. And there, in the midst of a long line of drunks, dropouts and derelicts, it shone: "Great Doings".

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