How do you know when it's done?

A few days ago, I was having lunch with Tony (the youngest brother of my good friend Jerry Infantino). Tony was recalling the time, many years ago, when Jerry and I were art students. We both were working on abstract paintings in his backyard when his father came home. He asked me, "How do you know when it's done?" Tony got a kick out of that and it stuck in his mind all these years.

"How do you know when it's done?" is a question that deserves consideration. Some may quickly lump it into the same category as "how long did it take?" or other common art questions. However, "how do you know when it's done?" is a deeply profound question. On the surface, it is usually jokingly asked by someone unfamiliar with abstraction and whose mindset requires some form of metrics to gage completeness. For example, if painting a portrait, a likeness might signal that it is close to being finished or a pink center might indicate that your steak is done. The problem is that the abstract painter has no GPS to tell him where he is or how far he has to go. There are no signposts or reference points. He cannot look up from the canvas to see if the shadow or shape is correct. It is a realm where intuition is your guide. A uncharted wilderness of color and line, composition and configuration, of materials and texture, and of brushwork and technique.

To me the answer to "how do you know when it's done?" has to do with the process of abstract painting itself and the nature of perfection. To address this question, it requires the use of metaphor and a little patience.

The conscious or unconscious reality of emotions and thoughts is connected with everything in life including art. When art achieves a certain quality our nerves become effected and we have an emotional/intellectual response. This response can range from highly emotional (tears of joy or sadness) to the intellectual (befuddlement or insight). As a painter, my personal goal is to transport the viewer to a new world and to bring joy to the heart. To achieve this, the striving for perfection (excellence or an ideal state) is required. I must create a painting in such a way that it resonates with the world of mystery. It is like key-making without a key to copy. The creation of an original key whose surface is painstakingly configured and refined to fit into an invisible lock. A lock that opens the door to the world of the heart.

"How do you know when it's done?" When I can turn the key.