When I was 5 or 6 years old I knew I was an artist. My view of the sensory world always seemed different than my friends. When I paint, I have an internal “dialog” with myself. I think this “conversation” is hard wired but I have recently recognized how important and integrated it is to how I see and interpret my sensory world and how it takes form and color in my painting. Over the last few years, I have thought about how important it is to me to continually learn something new whenever I put brush and color to canvas, each new experience bringing a new perspective and vocabulary to my work, not unlike life.
I begin a new painting at the top and work my way down, working quickly to establish mood through color and composition. I allow the paint, drips and accidental color combinations to guide my vision. I use orange, brown, green and shades of gray to create the mood and feeling of weather, skies and water.
My paintings have a luminous, rich quality created by laying down thin glazes of oil paint on canvas. Layers are built up slowly after each has been softened and blended. I remove paint with turpentine and rags, re-apply, and remove again, repeating the process until the painting works and excites me. My finished paintings often don't resemble their beginnings; they go through a continual process of change.
Recent paintings explore water in varied dimensions, from the pond bottom through layers of water, to surface tension and reflection, to water splashes and ripples. I am in awe of nature. It never ceases to amaze and inspire me.