Process - Grit, Beauty, and a Little Piece of Solitude
My inspiration first emerges from a connection to colors or materials. Charcoal, acrylic paint, and wax pencil are my current favorite mediums. I work quickly when I paint. Rather than thinking about the painting itself, I think about my life and the current state of the world. Often, I listen to music (each note of it) as to not think too deeply about the painting, the outcome, or any excessive expectation. I choose to live in each stroke as it lands from my brush. Many of my paintings include marks that mimic each beat of a song or songs—an effort to create rhythm in me to slow the speed of my thoughts. A meditation, if you will.
I love to paint with knives, for they create layers that are bold with texture, the outcome is difficult to control, and the feeling of application is exhilarating. I often nurture the boldness with delicate, blended, watery layers. As for color, I lean toward the full spectrum of blacks, deep indigos, and whites, punctuated by bold chartreuse or an ombre scale of pinks. If I can effectively build compositions that are evocative and emotional that “come together” in some way through this process, I feel satisfied.
A longtime violinist, I often paint with my arm held like a bow—a technique that helps convey my emotion within abstract impressions or distinctive subjects. When feeling particularly fired up, my marks are defined. My charcoal is aggressive and bold. Strong marks on a page spark something within me and my work, sometimes in the form of scraping things away. When I'm more at peace and enjoying a moment, my work tends toward subtlety.
Sometimes an avenue is unexpected. “Mistakes” imbue my work with a larger scope and often inspire lively discussions among audience members. What might be considered my life “mistakes” can feel lighter through my work and reaching people in this way. They become less encumbering to my spirit. I love it when I have something internal to decipher. The work benefits because I've come closer to it. We've imprinted on each other, the same way I hope to with an audience.