Here's a man who can use a roll of masking tape. A man who worries about the golden mean, who is seriously concerned about whether an edge should be hard or blurry, who contemplates for great periods of time the necessity of adding another colour to the composition. Who can only paint when the canvas is larger than he is. Does it mean anything? Who the fuck knows. But it's a lot closer to the Platonic ideality than Tracey Emin.