I’m constantly asked where I like to paint the best.  And I always say, “Wherever I am at that moment.”  My work is always racing around inside of me like a giant tornado and looking for some outlet.  I feel the spirit more than the light, and I get different vibes from different areas, some good, some bad.  I’m very much of a light person.  I had that very sad feeling in the dark; I sort of follow the sun wherever I go.

I love to do what I do, and I think I have a very blessed life.  I do what I feel like doing, not what I have to do.  So when people ask me, “When do you have a vacation coming up?” I think, “I’m always on vacation!”  If being on vacation means doing what you like to do, then that’s what I do every day:  painting and working for the spirit.

Now, constantly talking about the work, playing to the crowd, is more of a chore than actually making it.  How many times can you say it’s this, that, or the other thing?  That probably goes back to my school days when I hated to be there reading a book, trying to form something in my mind.

I’m always looking for simplicity, and it seems to me the world is very complicated.  Like everything in my life, sometimes the light affects my work, and other times it doesn’t.  It depends on my mood, where I am...  For years I never painted under anything other than artificial light, but now I would say that almost three-quarters of the time in Ireland I’m painting outside.  My studio in Chicago has a huge window where the light is always streaming in.  In Florida it’s like painting in a cave; there’s no outside light.

Whatever’s there, I jump in and do it, and I adjust.  I don’t think the world has to adjust to me; I think I have to adjust to the world.  So whether it’s strobe light, sunlight, or candlelight, I really don’t give a damn.

Matt