As a young suburban child, I often sought solace alone in our local forest. The towering trees were intimidating, yet comforting because of their beauty, steadfast authenticity, and consoling sounds. Much as I do with my paintings, I dug and hunted for critters and shiny objects, seeking surprises driven by my curiosity. Today, I roam in a fictional forest of oil paint mixed with cold wax creating a multitude of complex layers. This robust medium gives me a full range of textures where I use a variety of unusual tools that pull me into the surface. With these tools, I can be physically involved as I apply layer upon layer. It’s almost as if I am back in my woods. I can scrape, drip solvents, press, scratch, dig, etc. all the while not invested in the ultimate outcome, but looking forward to the unexpected. The first artistic decision I make, once the surface has been texturized with three layers of gesso, is the color chord of a painting. Each painting in Colorscapes carries its own color palette. Color—with all its endless possibilities, challenges, and evocative powers—expresses the core identity of my creative process.
At the beginning of a painting, I am in a state of discovery, hunting for the “shiny object” of shape, value, line, and color that call out to me. During the process, I often rotate the panel. The early stages are chaotic as I open-up to intuiting the ‘voice’ of a painting. As I progress, I begin to emphasize certain shapes, colors, and values, or I hide them beneath layers to create depth, intrigue, and tension. With my final layers, I start to unify the chaos. Yet paradoxically, these unifying layers also create layers and textures of contrasts that suggest the power of differences, which lead us to discover new insights and prod us toward the unforeseen Colorscapes of our lives.