As a child, I lived in my imagination. I fantasized about the world in rain puddles and beyond the reflection in my bedroom mirror. As I grew up and moved into the real world, my artwork developed from my need to explore my feelings in both worlds.
When I was a young adult, the emphasis on the two-dimensional plane was still the fashion in the art world, but I was more interested in exploring three-dimensional space. I focused on learning and using old master methods of indirect painting. I studied the work of Rembrandt and Italian Renaissance painters, Chardin and Corot. At the same time, I have also been a devoted student of Cezanne, Bonnard and Matisse. And what I have realized over time is that I want my paintings to create a three dimensional space that exists in tension with a two-dimensional construct (real and imagined worlds) using a variety of means such as line, overlapping planes, value, color relationships, atmospheric perspective, patterning, shape-state, the properties of oil paint (transparent vs. opaque, texture) to name just a few. And I’m always working toward that ideal.
But why? Life is wonderful and joyous and tragic and often a daily attempt to survive. We live our lives from one moment to the next, experience myriad ordinary pleasures and struggles, ups and downs, usually without much reflection on how we are feeling. But when we look at a piece of art that is truthful, we see our life reflected back in a way that hits our core and floods us with the feeling of living, integrated and whole. I create my real/imaginary world not only as a place for me to be fully awake and alive, but for others to inhabit as well. I want my paintings to be a reminder of all that is suffered and sacrificed and at the same time to be a place of joy and hope, peace and light.