The Story of Heartbreak and Loss Painting

I’ve always been grateful for writers and musicians who can put into words things that I cannot. That’s how abstract painting began for me. I often find it difficult to talk about my work, especially in person. To be honest, I'm inspired by nothing, and everything. I am thinking and connecting more than I have in years. It's been a beautiful evolution. Much of my work relates to the Japanese term Wabi-Sabi; a state of acceptance of the imperfections in flow, and the acceptance of the cycle of life and death. I have long suffered from anxiety over my own mortality. It’s my biggest point of fear and vulnerability. Pushing paint around and getting lost in the creative process has been my therapy, and color something that can bring me peace. My hope is that my viewers feel the same sense of safety from my work that I do. My paintings are not perfect. There are unintentional drips and marks. I do not tape my edges and often don't paint my edges. I like things to be natural and real because that is life. It is death as well. So many of us speak about finding balance in life. In fact, much of my work relates to this idea as I strive to create a balance of movement, texture, color and energy in my paintings. Yet my work is always just a little off kilter and off center, alluding to the notion that balance may be something we can never really find. Or maybe we find it, but its not what we were expecting it to look like. I have been told that my work is unresolved and unfinished. To that I say, thank you. It’s your job to resolve it, not mine. My work is never meant to be “perfect” or “done”, and neither am I.