I've been thinking a lot lately about how to articulate my thought process as I assemble a painting.
My paintings begin when I step into a space, or see a person, know that they are going to be important--at least to me--and snap a picture of them. I store these images, often over years, before I eventually collect other people, objects, and spaces, that somehow go with the earlier image--that complicate and complete it. In some ways it feels like I'm bringing the inevitable together, following clues on my way to solving an enigma. In other ways, it's spontaneous and chancy...as hundreds of the images I keep will never find mates or be used for anything.
I patch the images together in photoshop, making a digital "rough draft" to reference once I start painting. I'll address issues like harmonizing colors and unifying light sources (here a problem is evident in the reflected light on the concrete floor) when I get to them in the painting process.
Having gotten to this point, I'll let them stew for a week or so, looking at them daily, making sure there isn't a need for other elements that might add something important, give them additional layers of interest and meaning. This one on the bottom, especially, I might try and expand--give a long horizontal format and add additional figures closer to the foreground. Sometimes it's hard to know when enough is enough, and when enough is just being lazy.