The intersection of contraries fascinates me: ecstasy and agony; humor and tragedy; natural
and constructed realities; experience and news. I find that I'm curious about the struggles of diversity vs. unity
in human, animal and plant societies. I am captivated by complex issues that we all face,
and yet experience personally, intimately. I am interested in the role of dark feelings, thoughts and states of mind
in the process of transformation, l am drawn to fire beneath reserve.
I
think of painting as a dynamic process, expressing energy through the
coupling of opposites. The raw canvas is both filled and completely
empty. Akin to dreaming, I begin with an image in mind but am not clear
how it will manifest. I do not derive my imagery from sleeping dreams
but from my eyes, imagination, memory, as well as photography,
historical references and
chance. I pursue a dynamic interaction between an intuitive images, a sensual and physical handling
of paint, and the spirit or accident of the moment.
Although stylistically I incorporate representation,
paradoxically, I approach the canvas abstractly and employ gesture
founded in Abstract Expressionism. I throw paint at the canvas and
sculpt the surface using painting knives, nails, pins, bottle
brushes, gold leaf plastic, anything that is lying around. Into the
surface I incorporate paper collage, feathers,
beans,
tacks, sticks, glass and more. My subject matter includes th
e figure
(invented, remembered and/or quoted) as well as still life of paper,
textiles, flora and fauna, food, weapons and toys. I work whatever my
mood, and each piece combines the intentional with the accidental, the
textured layers forming what becomes the body and flesh of the painting.
I am interested in complex story telling using cultural myths and histories that reach back into
our collective and personal pasts. Figures and still life figures
evolve
as open ended metaphors for concepts and environments that are
themselves also metaphors, and therefore fold - like
fabric, time, or paint - back in on themselves. Like a poem, a painting
is a surface. The depth is in the surface (oddly). It sort of dawns on
you - like the way one remembers a dream sometimes, in fragments that
float up all through the day, assembling themselves oddly,
disturbingly... |