My painting makes no statement, political or otherwise. People sometimes ask me: ‘But what is your work telling me?’ My response is that my painting doesn’t ‘tell.’ It ‘shows.’ My process does not begin with intent. It begins with paint. Then more paint. In what seems like no time at all, the paint is in charge of what happens next.
In my earliest paintings, cosmic energy dominated. Later, biological forms began to crop up. My work, which had been all about roiling infinite space, now was teeming with signs of pre-life, then life itself. Creatures (mostly small) were swimming, crawling, flying about. Eventually, it became apparent that these energetic creatures had a common goal — they were heading purposefully toward a place in the painting that looked like a whirlpool, or maybe a portal. A place that opened to another place, out of sight. A parallel universe? I don’t know. They never said.
As I continued making art, in my third year before the canvas, paintings emerged that were more classically abstract, paintings about nothing but color, shape and motion. These utterly abstract paintings, like their predecessors, are characteristically full of energy — active, transformative energy — and explosive, gorgeous color.
I just love paint.