Through each manifestation
of my painting, I have been intrigued by the tension between meaning
and abstraction. From my earlier work burying archetypal image
or actual language beneath rustic studies of light and shadow
to my more recent abstract pieces, I ask my audience to find meaning
as we might in the wilderness, assured of an intelligence behind
this raw mixture of light, shape, color and topography.
If forced to discuss my work topically, I would say much
of it has been an effort to depict a transforming source of light
within the painting's composition. This trope culminates with
my construction of light box paintings in which an actual light
illuminates the painting, composed on Plexiglas, from behind.
Most recently I have made monochromatic paintings comprised of
distorted rectangles. In one painting they may seem like ritualistic
lesions in skin. In another, DNA molecules. In another, simply
ghostly absences of color and light.
Through heavy, perhaps obsessive, repetition I speak to
the pain and humor of representation and to the universality of
imperfection contained by these awkward two-dimensional figures.
I enjoy the relationship between process and form most when building
my self-illuminated pieces. Marrying the 2500 year-old tradition
of encaustic painting with wood working and electricity engenders
a sort of archaeology of light. By applying molten wax over rice
paper on Plexiglas and then illuminating it from behind with fluorescence
I manage to integrate synthetic man-made materials with primitive
techniques. The result is a piece that is simultaneously modern
I hope my work is poetic in that it says no more than it
must, insisting we build narratives from its scarcity. I aspire
not to a vague abstraction but an economy of representation. Not
a joyless contemplation of form but an invitation to imagine.