People sometimes want to know. I am approached at show receptions or emailed or visited at the studio, and this question comes up. I do not believe that it is a bad question, but I will tell you why I avoid answering it too precisely.
People have a host of reasons for why they connect to artwork. When I am done with a piece, I feel like I become a spectator, just like you. Little more. Of course, conversations about my work emerge often, but if I am not careful about how much I reveal my own intentions, I run the danger of closing the door on what the painting can mean to you or anyone else. I will talk about the experience of painting or discuss ideas of possible meanings, but frankly, I believe that if artists will delve deeply and truly enough into their own experience, then they are usually talking about aspects of everyone’s experience. What you take away from the painting is every bit as legitimate as what I intended, possibly more legitimate than what I intended. The assumption is erroneous that because I painted it, you are obligated to accommodate my intention.
Art should open up, not close down conversation. I feel that very often too much attention to my intention precipitates conversations that are peripheral to what artwork can or should be accomplishing. What do I intend? That my work is better—maybe even much better—than I intended.