Statement

What do my abstract paintings have in common with puff pastry? Layers. An unreasonable number of layers.

My painting process is driven by instinct, intuition, emotion, and occasionally the inability to leave well enough alone. Each layer in my work reflects lived experience – moments, memories, tensions, and stories that refuse to stay neatly tucked away. When I begin a canvas, I rarely have a fixed plan or image in mind. I let the painting evolve naturally, allowing one layer to argue with the next until something honest begins to emerge.

My abstract landscapes are, technically speaking, landscapes … but barely. Think mood disguised as a landscape. They lean more atmospheric than representational – less “here’s a tree” and more “here’s the feeling of a place you swear you’ve been before, even if you haven’t.” Creating that sense of atmosphere takes time, restraint, and a technique that has been learned after gently applying one thin layer after another. Ironically, the paintings that appear soft and effortless are usually the ones I fought with the longest.

The first layer is usually bold and impulsive: broad marks, energetic color, a little chaos. Then comes the editing, softening, scraping, blending, obscuring revealing, and sometimes completely undoing what I was certain was working five minutes earlier. One of my favorite techniques is applying paint only to scrape or wipe it away again, exposing fragments of what came before – little archaeological discoveries buried beneath the surface. Over time, the painting develops not just by depth and texture, but history. The layers become evidence of decisions made, reconsidered, hidden, uncovered, and occasionally rescued at the last possible moment.

I’ve also noticed something interesting when people stand in front of my work and really look at it. There’s often a moment – an actual lightbulb-over-the-head moment – when they realize they will never again be emotionally fulfilled by the “art” that’s been displayed beside matching discounted throw pillows and a lamp.

My abstracts continue evolving in the eye of the viewer. Each person finds something different in the layers and brings their own story to the work. Only then does the painting feel complete. And then, I add another layer. Usually turquoise.