I want the viewer to get close, to come up to the surface and take it in, and back up and look again. I want the viewer’s sense of physical space, and even their sense of mortality, to be affected, in order to allow an authentic act of seeing and experiencing.
What most interests me is the fluidity of time and how the present moment can be expressed within the formal structure of a painting. Because, simply put, right there on the canvas is where my thought and my materials reach their deepest level of engagement with the natural rhythms around us, and the energies of the body.
Maybe the best way to view a painting is to know nothing about the artist. Yet on occasion an anecdote might reveal something interesting about how a willful change in routine can direct a painter to areas where logic is suspended and she is open to new possibilities. The past 12 years have been for me an intensely secluded time in the studio, where working on the journal entries and works on paper finally resulted in Traveling Light.