My body of work stems from an interest in the ways in which the creation of artworks can symbolically mimic the path of a human life. Hidden from the viewer, each painting I create contains multiple layers of distinct, separate paintings, each supporting and informing the finished product. Much like the way that separate events, failures and accomplishments shape the way that a person’s life unfolds, these under-paintings of words, geometrical shapes and gestural marks guide the life of the painting, and lead it to its completion.
As my painting career has unfolded throughout the years, what ends up as the final layer—the finished product—has changed, but it never actually disappears. The words and forms of my under-paintings were at one time the final layers; as I perfect and master each of these finished products, I then retire these paintings, employing them as the under-layers: the past lives of the works.
The most recent final layer of my paintings consists of colorful, abstracted tree forms, which act as my formal catalyst for painting. It is important for me as a painter to assign myself rigid structures and armatures, against which I can push. The structures challenge the intuitive nature of my painting process, as my spontaneous gestures, in turn, challenge the formal rules established by the structures. This carefully instigated tension fuels the creation of my paintings, and also provides viewers with a window into the painting's life.
Although the "trees" of my recent paintings are currently satisfying my aesthetic impulses, I know that one day, they will cease to be enough, and I will have to move on and adopt a new strategy in order to complete my works. The "trees" will still be there in the paintings, but like the words, forms and gestures of the other under-paintings, they will never be presented to the viewer again. Both futile and forward-moving, the paintings are evidence of not only the paintings' evolutionary pasts, they are also a promise of changes to come.