Thoughts on Painting

I came across a phrase related to deja vu (dès vu), which describes the feeling of experiencing a moment that will soon be a memory. A sense that we can step outside of ourselves, and look on this moment as though it were already in the past. I love this feeling, as it prompts me to ask myself what am I embracing from this time? The passage of time and this fleeting nature of our existence drives my interest in memory and memorabilia. Our transient nature reminds us that we have limited lives. We should take advantage of all of the things that our senses and experiences allow us to carry with us. We can (and should) feel water on our skin, the touch of others, the breath of the old as they drift into their own memories. I remember reading once that photographs were like the capture of shadows. And in a sense I think that we are shadows, moving through time, imprinting on the land and on each other.

Much of my work is meant to be intimate and evocative of photographs, allowing the viewer to relate to each work as a piece of memorabilia. I invite viewers to step into a space that feels familiar, but also haunting and ephemeral. I often remember the atmosphere of a place or time more so than the physical space or objects. This might be the temperature of the day, quality of light, or moisture in the air. This is also a core element of dreams, which are a rich space for inspiration. In dreams, psychological barriers are lowered, and there is an element of mystery combined with honesty.

Working with mylar allows me to embrace its translucency, the way it scatters the light feels like film. I am interested in holding onto this translucency within the work, and accomplish this through a process of application and removal (with both painting tools and cloths) to build delicate layers. This also develops a soft edge and atmospheric quality. My color palettes are inspired by aged or antique photos, slides, and my concepts of a nocturnal or dream space. This results in spaces that are not entirely real, nor are they completely fictitious.

Throughout my practice, I create work that opens the door to quiet and stillness, which are in themselves a recognition of these fleeting moments. Acknowledging and recognizing our vulnerability, sitting with it, allowing it to soften our hearts, we can embrace awe and foster compassion. I think that is what much of art is, a communication of our humanity, and I am joining this conversation by adding these pieces of stillness. To give a moment for pause and reflection in an increasingly fast paced world, where we might forget how fragile we are.