I’ve always made art: My main motive in making art is inherent in being born an artist: I’m compelled to make art, in response to nature’s colors and forms and movement; it’s a visceral reaction.
I love color. I have a visceral response to color. I love how color is in nature. Color is so beautiful—to mix color with paint and lay down strokes of subtly different colors next to one another is so delicious.
There’s nothing academic about my work or my thoughts about it. I can’t talk about it as if it was conceived as a complex system of expression. I love what I create; it’s the only important thing I do.
My art isn’t political, but I could say the politics of it are universal in my desire to show people something I want them to see and be moved by and delight in and achieve serenity through, to feel that seeing the beauty of color is important and feel their lives in a deeper way—for instance, seeing my paintings and then looking at trees and recognizing the echo of what I’m doing in the way colors blend in nature.
The poetry of my paintings… the way the mind moves over/with words in a poem, the rhythm, the shape of the words, how they relate, that’s how my eyes move over and around my paintings, how I think about how I want the elements of the composition to integrate. I’m looking for visual rhythm, so my eyes don’t get stuck in one place.
Always, visual puzzles arise and I try to solve them.
None of my paintings are alike; each one grows out of the last, and even when I’m developing a series, the works inevitably change and evolve one to the next, visual manifestations of what’s unconsciously experienced as I work, the physics of time and space embedding itself. Each work represents a new enigma to be investigated, so each one offers a new solution, however subliminal, to be applied to the next… which then begs another question—and so it goes on—a metaphor for life.