"In the Fish Tank" Painting

I rarely think of a surface as empty.
Even before an image appears, something is already there —
a stain, a texture, a previous decision, a hesitation, a memory of movement.
I let these remain. They become part of the structure of the work.

My paintings are built through observation, interruption, layering, and revision.
I move between control and instinct, between quiet decisions and sudden changes.
Some areas are reduced until they almost disappear; others are left unresolved so the image can continue breathing.

I am interested in the moment where recognition begins to shift —
where an object becomes atmosphere,
where color behaves more like memory than description,
where space feels emotionally constructed rather than physically correct.

Much of my process comes from responding rather than fully planning.
I work by adjusting relationships:
weight against lightness, silence against movement, flatness against depth, clarity against fracture.
The image slowly reveals its own balance through these changes.

Light, surface, and material have become increasingly important in my work.
Colors are often layered, interrupted, softened, or partially hidden, allowing them to change depending on distance, reflection, and time of day.
What appears stable at one moment may shift in another.

I do not paint to arrive at certainty.
I paint to remain inside a state of searching —
a place where perception is still forming,
where thought has not fully settled into language,
where unfinished things are allowed to exist without needing resolution.

Each work becomes a record of decisions, revisions, hesitation, rhythm, and attention.
Not a final answer, but evidence of being present long enough to see something change.

A time without haste, a moment with no forward push.
The future in thought, the past in memory, and the unknown in every choice not yet understood.