Talk when the music stops
Along with everything else, I want my paintings to be very specifically fun to continue looking at. Repeatedly so. More fun the more you look. They intentionally afford the viewer a number of ways to have fun looking at them.
Most obviously, you can pick a point on the line and trace it around, either direction. See if you can get all the way around without losing your place. You’ll find that you accelerate through the big arcs and slow down to pick your way through clusters of tight curves, climbing and descending. There’s a cadence to it, like a visual riff. Follow a simple spiral clockwise and you’ll often hit something like a swim turn, with a series of loops spinning back counter-clockwise, then the poles will flip again. Do this for a while and you might notice that you feel calmer, more open and alert.
If you keep track of as much of the line's path as you can, you’ll see how the loops and spirals construct shapes that come together, split off, spill into each other, eddying as the context gels into a momentary tableaux.
You might lose track of the line and centipede your way around, or bounce between points of gravity like a ball descending a Plinko board. The shapes might look like faces, blooms, bunnies, shells, organs, microbes, celestial clouds of gas. Finding shapes in clouds is fun.
So, meander with the line, cascade through the clusters, improvise associations. That’s three ways. There are more.