This is an older painting, pretty small, now visiting my best friend, Indigo, out in Indiana. It was in a show in the East Village eons ago. During the show Indigo went out on the sidewalk and dragged some unsuspecting guy in. He was a Rasta fellow with a cane. He began looking at all my paintings, and then he began to talk about them to whoever was there. He was brilliant. He just got them, and he could articulate what he felt. He didn't know who I was so I just sat silent on the window sill listening. When he came to this one he had a couple that was following him around, completely intrigued with his words. He said a few things and then he said: this is about freedom. Not what I would have said if asked, but after thinking I decided that he really had nailed it.
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