In my "Sea Curtains" I make art that exists in the present tense. It is ever changing, evanescent. The images are those of reality where everything is changing micro-secondly. But the "Beach Patterns" bubble drawings are only records of once evanescent events.

We are riding on a train while sitting backward. We can only imagine what is to come but we think we know where we have been. We have memories of what we want to preserve and so we make art. Art becomes a record, something we can enjoy, judge, and talk about, but it is past history.

Artists from the beginning have wrestled with movement and time. Rembrandt tackled it in his drawings. French painter Marie Barcquemond was onto it in 1881 but her husband, a famous engraver, strongly objected to her art so she stopped painting. Elmer Bischoff, one of my graduate school mentors at UC Berkeley, and an avid studier of Cezanne and Bonnard, put me onto it when he said, "My aim has been to have the paint on the canvas play a double role - one as an alive, sensual thing in itself, and the other conveying a response to the subject. Between these two is this tightrope."

The scribbles, veils, and splashes of paint we call "Modern Art" are attempts at capturing a reality that is changing micro-secondly. The same can be said of film. It appears to be moving and changing but it is a finite loop that cannot go on to be something else. Like my "Beach Patterns" bubble drawings, film too is a record stuck in time.