Writing about one’s work is writing about memory. One tries to conjure up the mental and often times unconscious energy that constellated around an image in the waking realm. To invoke the cellular memory, how it felt to physically implement the work and how the senses were utilized to choose the materials is a necessary task. Finally, expressing the meaning to the viewer is almost impossible in its entirety because in the middle of the process, the work is painting itself. In essence, I do not know what demon or angel is completing my picture.
The process of these paintings, on canvas, on wood and on paper, span a decade that continues to be an ongoing dialogue and a memory bank. It encompasses my travels to exotic lands, arctic and antarctic expeditions that challenge the very notion of the creation myth, and always, journeys within. There is inspiration derived from universal literature, parables and fables. Patterns in global cities are always observed, cultural symbols are irresistibly explored, the poetry of the psyche is suddenly expressed and the metaphysical is ultimately considered. The beauty of letter forms and calligraphy in its muscular impact will often initiate the concept or complete it. The human form waits at the back door wondering if it is still relevant and sometimes it is welcomed at the front gate because the idea is in need of its age-old participation.
The work is compelled to be sensual so the surfaces are highly textural and often not detected as such on a flat screen or in printed matter. Acrylic paint, gesso, sand, gels, metal leaf and global handmade papers create these surfaces. “Painting out” is a technique I use to give history to an image. The written word relates to the concept of the work and can also serve as form and a design element.
The most recent work establishes a marriage between all of the above and our global crisis, my personal losses and psychic transformations, and finally my eternal love for poetry, in particular Emily Dickinson.