Kay Rosen
American painter
With my work you actually know at the beginning what it’s going to be. I plan everything out before I actually start making the piece. There’s always a chance, and it’s happened many times, that it doesn’t work out. I take the canvas off and throw it away. But usually, because it’s sort of done before it’s started, I don’t even have to make that decision. When something doesn’t work, when I’ve had to abandon something, it’s usually been because there was ultimately just no humor in it—or no “A-ha” moment—because there’s something missing. I have a friend whose paintings are never done, he might pick something up years later and add something to it. I’m not that kind of painter, for better or worse. I look at work I did five years ago, and I can’t imagine going back to it. I’m not the same person I was then. I’m not the same person I was even five months ago. When the moment is over, it’s over. I’d rather not spend time rethinking something. Instead, get up. Go outside. Go for a walk. Then make something new.