Every painting begins long before the surface is touched.
There's a moment, quiet but decisive, where the structure starts to form. Not visually yet, but internally. A sense of proportion. A direction. A boundary, even if it isn't fully defined.
By the time the first mark is made, something has already been set in motion.
And that first mark carries more weight than it seems.
A Starting Point Is a Commitment
The first line, edge, or shape isn't just a beginning. It's a commitment to a system.
It establishes proportion, orientation, and the relationship between space and form. Even the smallest decision starts to narrow the field of possibilities.
That's not a limitation. It's what allows the work to become specific.
Without that initial structure, everything stays open, and when everything is open, nothing holds.