If a picture makes it beyond the concept stage, I find myself standing in front of an empty canvas, afraid of making the first brush stroke. No idea was really good, no concept really completed. I think of Herbert Brandl, Elke Krystufek, or — even worse — Hans Staudacher. And I decide to give up.
Then some time later, I dare to start after all, and if I am lucky I get pulled into something that has nothing to do with the world outside anymore. It is like stepping inside—somehow.
The result, however, is not so important, I would say.