I avoid making controlled creative art because this requirement fills your minds full of ideas about cultivated values that suppress a raw experience, and I want to create a raw experience. For this reason, I do not make permanent work and I frequent old abandoned buildings, empty car-parks or other places where I can act with total disregard for order and organisation. I set out to avoid guiding paint and I screw-up inexpensive lining paper, dip it into buckets of coloured emulsion and then throw it at a surface. Sometimes I leave it to dry, other times I just photograph it and recycle the materials. This is a very intuitive way of working that stops my intelligent and intellectual ideas from contaminating the end result.
Why do I act this way? Because we are born to learn to project intelligent ideas over everything we see that drives us to suppress an older raw way of looking. This view is always lost in art if the artist guides the paint and, therefore, not guiding paint provokes a return of the old raw experience. However, our minds now look to overpower this view and most artists unknowingly work to rid their minds off this raw encounter. They respond unconsciously by taking raw materials and moulding it into an art object that reflect intelligent thoughts and recognisable images, rather than, as I do, try to remove these elements because they suppress the view that awaits to be sensed by instinct.
Guiding material to make art probably arose in prehistory to suppress the 'animal' view our distant ancestors were working to remove from their minds, and because artists in the past had no idea they had evolved from animal origins they made no effort to explore this original way of sensing. This experience has, therefore, become buried within our powers of observation, but, with modern knowledge of evolution, some artist have realised that art can be used to rediscover this lost view. This requires creating anti-art because the only way you can get your mind to regenerate the old view is to face uncertainty and not knowing about what you do. You seek to avoid cultured intellectual understanding and you work with chance and accident to expose, rather than entomb, what remains of the final dying echoes of your natural 'animal' mind.