I drove to suburban Phoenix to take in a couple of Spring Training games. Milwaukee vs. Arizona, and then Milwaukee vs. Cincinnati yesterday. What does this have to do with painting? Besides being able to take in the landscape along the back route through the Gila and coming off the Mogollon Rim, a trip to the Phoenix Art Museum (more on that in another post), and the color of urban Latino culture it is experiencing slow time. Over 100 years ago baseball was associated with the bustle of the city: a fast game. During it's heyday in mid 20-th century it became synonymous with slower time. The game has no clock, people go to escape the routines of time. Even the players and coaches do a lot of standing around. This all reminded me of the spectrum of time in art: some decisions come slowly, not rushed, they can't happen until a number of other things, or one thing, happens.