Watercourse Way

I am staring at a blank canvas—and it is huge, measuring 5 feet by 8 feet. In my hand is a glass of watery phthalo blue paint. And I am about to pour it on the canvas. Wherever the paint lands on the unprimed canvas, it will immediately and permanently soak in, never to be reversed. I tilt the glass and let it roll. As the paint runs down the length of the canvas, I tilt it first one way and then another, hoping to make a pleasing pattern, hoping the paint I mixed is neither too dark nor too weak. But it’s pretty much out of my control as soon as I empty the glass. Once it dries, I will repeat the process with different colors each time, for perhaps 12 passes. And every time, the possibility

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