There’s a meditation I practice - in the late fall, winter, and early spring - that I call, “Watching the room get dark.” A half hour before sunset, I sit in the den, which has a nice view of the western sky, and I watch the sun go down and the room get dark. All lights are off, as is the television and radio; no distractions.

As the sun sets, the air gets tinged with an amber-yellow, even as a slow stain of noir spreads across the walls and furniture. The process takes about an hour, but that’s the whole point; to take the time to listen to what my subconscious might tell – or show – me. I meditate this way as often as I can.

For people who can’t sit still that long, there is the meditative labyrinth. This is a circular maze one walks through, from the entrance on the outside to the center and back again. Stones mark the trail. The labyrinth gives the “Type A” person a convenient way to exercise while focusing their mind on their subconscious.

We all have ideas and thoughts and feelings deep within our consciousness, but we need to take the time to listen for them. Sometimes the solution to a problem might be right in front of us. This is where I go to plan the abstracts I paint.

I did six pieces this summer. It’s very satisfying to find an answer to the problem of what combination of colors and forms to apply to a blank piece of canvas stretched on a wooden frame.

I enjoy working in the backyard, especially early in the morning. I don’t feel constricted on the back patio; especially when painting on a large canvas. The world is quiet, except for the birds. It’s nice to get lost in a canvas; your attention is focused on just that one thing.

Double Trouble was the last piece I worked on in the autumn of 2006, and the first one I worked on in the spring of 2007. A set of three canvases, it’s named for Double Trouble State Park in the middle of the Pine Barrens in southern Jersey.

Montreal I started in January, in anticipation of finishing it in the summer. I worked on it off and on over the summer. I planned to try a modular approach to the painting, masking certain areas of the canvas.

While designing it, I had another idea, and so created Seasons. While working on Seasons, I took a break and did Mother and Child. Then, I returned to Seasons. When that was finished, I returned to Montreal.

Taking another break from Montreal, I did a set of three canvases called Child (shown at the bottom of this column).

While taking another break from Montreal, I painted Spoils of War. Then, back to Montreal for the final step and then “sweetening”

The reason for all the breaks was not that I have a short attention span. It’s a matter of chemistry; it takes a while for paint – even acrylics – to dry properly. I couldn’t proceed to step two until the paint had dried from step one. So, I leapfrogged from one canvas to another.