In my heart is a knife man

Tonight, I am a knife man. That's all I can commit to right now, but I may really be a knife man in 2009.
There are a million arguments against; isn't it like cheating? it is for the impatient, it is without discipline, it's primitive, it's bound by opaque etc.

A knife delivers the brush strokes I want a brush to stroke. A brush is indispensable make no mistake, namely in early stages among others, but a knife can be subtle and always strong and nuanced. Every stroke is spontaneity of energy yet imbued with intent. Every stroke is a thought first and a life of its own thereafter. If the color is not worked out ahead of time it will distract. But if you create the right color by mixing it on the canvas it too looks brilliant. On that note, it stands up strong and bright if you intend it to. It randomizes pattern. It unifies disparity. I'm almost always satisfied if I use it with confidence. That's the key, confidence. The false kind will expose itself right away. It has to be the real thing. The kind hailing from knowledge and experience.

My knife is at times like sculpting while at others the opposite. It is at times like sculpting in that I chisel at the surface to reveal or expose something. It can dig out the truth under the surface. This comes early in the knifing stages. This is usually responsible for atmosphere and improving edges. I tend to bend knives in this stage.

The opposite of this technique is the whipped topping, the dance of texture. This is a build up stage, not a cutting one. It is the staging floor of color. It is the spire atop the monument and good ball bearings in the wheel of a homeless grocery cart. It is the moot in smooth. I tend to drop knives often in this stage. I hold it so lightly the surface of the paint pulls it from my finger tips.

In my heart is a knife man me thinks.