The experience of going to northern Thailand from Ireland raises many questions concerning the nature of the artistic/creative act in these two hugely different cultures, in which the role of a painter like myself awaits fundamental definition, or at least clarification.
The history of art in the West comes out of a Graeco-Christian culture that was reformed in the Renaissance and is now caught up in the maze of Capitalism.
The history of art in Asia is quite different, and in fact is hardly a question of creativity at all, it seems to me, but reaches deeper down to an ethical praxis of living.
In the West, paradoxically, it is an act emerging from over two millenia of religious belief, now in traumatic decline. In the East, in Asia, there seems to me to be a recognition of emptiness and the bearing this has on life, and wisdom. Belief in another reality stands against life.
These are jumbled thoughts that, in different sequences, hang in somehow at the back of my mind, and lie behind my journeys to Asia. All I can do, I think, is touch chords of nerves, and raise further questions.