Paula Eight

When I work, I’m whole. My eyes make observations. My hand moves, repeating them. My tool, whatever it is, is a natural extension of myself. It’s like part of me, like the surface on which the work is created. That state is miraculous, and I can’t say anything else about it other than that I then accept myself completely, enjoying a perfect harmony. Everything works. It’s nothing like Jacob wrestling with the angel. When my enthusiasm fades, I just stop. When I look at the works later, I sometimes wonder whether I really created them.” Paula Eight