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A POWERFUL PHOTOGRAPH, THE TENTH ANNIVERSARY OF ITŐS PUBLICATION,
CALLING UP PROFOUND MEMORIES OF ANOTHER CONFLICT, THIS TIME VIETNAM.

I REDREW IT IN THE MIDDLE OF A SHEET. AND THE ARM AND THE CLASPING HAND
BECAME THE FOCAL POINT.

MONTHS LATER, A PHOTO OF A LAUGHING BOY ALTERED MY PERCEPTION OF THE QUESTION.

AGAIN I DREW THE ARM AND CLASPING HAND.

THIS TIME CLASPING THE CHINESE DRAGON OF REDEMPTION.

REDEMPTION BECOME NIGHTMARE.

I COULD NOT EXCLUDE MYSELF.

WHAT DO I HOLD ON TO?

A MOTHER WEEPING FOR HER SONS, KILLED IN AFGHANISTAN, THIS TIME BY THE RUSSIANS.

THE SONS, THE SON, THE FISH, THE FISHING LINE.

AND A SYMBOLIC KALI-LIKE ME.

AND, AND, AND, HOW TO ESCAPE? HOW TO END?

HOW TO END THE PAINTING? I SOUGHT AND FOUND

ENKAI, WHO WANTED ONLY TO BECOME THE DISCIPLE OF THE BODHIDHARMA.

WHO VISITED HIS CAVE IN THE HILLS OF SOUTHERN CHINA OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

ONLY TO HAVE THE BODHIDHARMA REJECT HIM OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

BECAUSE HE WAS ATTACHED TO THE WORLD, TO HIS SELF,
TO HIS DESIRE TO BECOME THE DISCIPLE OF THE BODHIDHARMA.

OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN ENKAI RETURNED UNTIL, ON HIS FINAL VISIT,
HE CARRIED A SWORD THROUGH THE SNOW FAR UP INTO THE MOUNTAINS OF SOUTHERN CHINA
TO THE CAVE OF THE BODHIDHARMA.

THERE, IN A FINAL EFFORT TO RELINQUISH HIS CLASPING
TO THE WORLD, TO HIS SELF, TO HIS DESIRE TO BECOME
THE DISCIPLE OF THE BODHIDHARMA.

HE CUT OFF HIS ARM.
AND FINISHED MY PAINTING.

RETURN TO PAINT 3

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