The fantasy of The Grapes offered me solace in my journey through grief. Presented as a fairytale, the works reflect on our
yearning for a return to childhood when faced with catastrophe and ultimately, the wonder of imagination and its ability to heal.
My work represents an internal world where elements behave like perfectly imperfect members of a community- sometimes autonomously, sometimes co-dependent, sometimes harmoniously, and sometimes at odds.
As the pieces develop, I often see shapes, symbols, patterns, colors, or hints of a landscape that remind me of childhood, but the paintings evolve intuitively with no particular plan or intention. I like to explore different media, techniques and styles of making marks, always searching for ways to depict the mash-up of energies that shape our existence. I invite whatever shows up- whether hard or soft, symmetrical or strange, bright or sad. As each painting’s elements take shape, they become part of the narrative, inextricably linked with no choice but to acclimate to what was there before and accommodate what’s to come. The best part are the accidents- especially the ones that seem to disrupt the entire composition, only to uncover an irreverent character that makes the piece even better than before. Most of all, I try not to judge. Thirty years in the visual arts has taught me that my best work comes from trust, not thought. When the chorus of voices in my mind arrive to help me paint, I usher them to the back and let my gut take the lead. In the end, I look for the rare moment when the picture plane seems to have nothing more to tell me, even if I don’t yet know what the piece is saying. I believe the energy of the act of creating stays with the work and also fixes to each viewer, if only for a moment, acclimating in community with their own internal world.