Artist Statement

Paintbrushes and sweet psychosis:

If I suffer from any ailment, it is that I am overstimulated by the world around me.

My unrestrained excitement usually stems from fuzzy daydreams or puzzling memories set in places that have some kind of profound presence to me. That kind of intense presence that wreaks havoc on your soul and dominates your thoughts until somehow you can get it on paper.

Sometimes words and picture perfect scenes come to mind, but my process takes them all and sucks out it's presence to leave it to it's own abstract intrepretation.



Art is like my own personal diary, but my diary is made up of visual memories. My memories cannot be contained in a book. When I try it becomes ripped and pasted and put together in something else all together. My creations must have space to breathe on their own. These creations can be beautiful and complex but daunting and confusing. In the end the viewer is left with a feeling of odd, perhaps uneasy satisfaction.

I think about the memory as a landscape. Layers of secrets and confessions that make up a treachorous path crying tears of lovely, dripping paint.

Some of my marks want to hide in a crevice of ethereal calm; begging only to be seen by the thoughtful observer. The meek and docile are free to live a thoughtful life when put up against the movement of their colleagues.



Flighty and heartlessly impulsive my marks that have both intensity and substance are let loose on the canvas. Sometimes causing destruction. Always causing feelings of both frustration and joy. Marks and attitudes that I cannot live with or without for elongated periods of time. A treachorous love affair that will not have a satisfying discourse for quite awhile now and all that I have left to do is paint....and wait.

Sometimes even the most ruthless creations of my brush wither away and let themselves drown in layer upon layer of paint and paper. Thoughts piled on with memories, covered in feelings.



My paintings are where despair is mixed with desire and a little Sap Green. Carelessness if lashed against regret. Heartache may wither hopelessly in a corner and ecstacy has the right to take up most of the page, but it must leave room for my sleepy daydreams to float upon the page with the rest of my unpolished dreams.

They all coexist, but coexisting peacefully is quite another matter.

And despite it all. All of this must be contained in a 2D surface.

and it's still....

only a painting.