In the early nineties, ideas that had been ricocheting in my mind for a number of years began to line up and make sense to me as a painter. Particularly Wittgenstein’s idea (the private language argument) that meaningful language can only be public struck me as not only profound but obvious. Private language is an oxymoron, as is the idea of personal/private painting. If painting is to communicate anything and be in the world of people looking at painting, it must be about something other than itself. These ideas made me take a hard look at my work since New York. In the late nineties I started to cull the beginnings of a visual and recognizable alphabet from that era: shoes as home, posts as demarcation in a landscape, the body as landscape. The broken sun- glasses represent the idea that some images are shattering, and the camera symbolizes painting’s nemesis. I continued to elaborate and implement this visual alphabet in my painting: Braille representing touch and the opposites, sight and blindness. Shells as a personal music; water as the absence of taste; the dog as fidelity and poverty. The diver/leaper represents the plunge into the unknown, the leap of faith.