15 Painting

My work represents a careful balance of keeping control and letting go. I’m a confirmed writer of lists. I leave next-step instructions with masking tape and a Sharpie all over my studio. They act as guides for shaping the layers in each composition. Once the work starts to take on a life of its own, I let go of the plan and allow the paint to tell me what to do next. I rarely use traditional brushes and prefer scrapers, cups, and squeegees. Most of the time, the work-in-progress is on the floor, and I’m either outstretched over it or running around it, manipulating the paint by pouring, smearing, splatting, or monoprinting the color directly to the canvas. I like the light, earthier watercolor effects I can get without the traditional layer of gesso. The canvas is hand-stretched after all the painting is finished, and the last step is the addition of a transparent layer of varnish for protection. The work speaks for itself. It’s not about anything cerebral or representational. Each painting is simply a series of decisions I make about color, composition, and texture in a very specific window of time. Ultimately, they become visual representations of harnessing the chaos and chance of how I actually paint a painting. The work needs to feel honest. I title my paintings with chronological numbers. I don’t want a literal title to suggest imagery and skew the viewer’s personal experience, but I do want the paintings to always be connected wherever they may end up on this planet. It’s their ancestry.