ABOUT MY WORK AND CREATIVE PROCESS
Basically, I paint what I want to paint, and my work reflects my eclectic interests, both in choice of subjects and in the way I represent these subjects. My work is influenced by landscapes I’ve visited, books I’ve read, images from television, and often whatever happens to be in front of me in my life.
I’m always drawn by certain forms and shapes: confused tangles, obstructions that block a wider field of vision, pyramidal shapes, intersections of diagonals, desolate and decimated terrains, vegetation with complex leaves and roots, and small figurines and carvings that seem to have a particular presence.
Both my painting/drawing/collage work and my photography are important to me, but I experience them very differently. Photography is a means of quickly capturing a tiny slice of time, freezing it for later inspection to remind me of fleeting experiences that I want to keep in my consciousness - moments of surprise, mystery, order/chaos, beauty, and seven gob-smacking awe.
In contrast to photography, paintings are constructed slowly and the process involves thousands of disparate complex moments of observation of the subject, memories, fluctuating feelings and emotions, interactions with the art materials and visceral responses the work itself as it develops its presence. The final work incorporates all the changes in my consciousness over the duration of its creation. For this reason, painting, drawing and collage hold the most intimacy and meaning for me.
I paint intuitively. My creative process involves not knowing ahead of time where a painting or drawing will go. So starting a new work feels exciting but also risky, and I live with both exhilaration and frustration. I put my first marks on the canvas or paper, and begin a dialogue with the work, trying to feel what it “wants” as it waxes and wanes in achieving a presence. Each new mark changes the work, there are gains and losses. Many days are frustrating as I find myself surrounded by unresolved works, and it’s difficult to trust the process. But on other days my hand seems able to bypass my brain and it suddenly knows what the painting needs to achieve a oneness with the work. These are the days I live for.