Where the Wild Things Are Painting

Painting as poetry makes sense to me, especially with concern to translation and interpretation, words painting pictures and pictures inspiring words. I like to think of the possibilities present in gesture and suggestion, to think of light as something so bright that it might be audible. When I paint, my mind is in constant flux for how a painting can be made, constructed, pieced together, and subsequently read and understood. I want to make spacious, minimal, balanced paintings, I want to make awkward, messy, chockablock paintings. I’d like to make both kinds of painting at the same time, and then there’s the risk, every time, of making a bad painting. The good paintings are so often accidental, ignorantly brave and beautifully reckless.