Handmade musical instrument are imbued with an almost mystical presence. They are anthropomorphized, given names, and said to have distinct personalities. They are objects capable of taking you on emotional and spiritual journeys, and they reflect the people and the cultures that create them. I like when the materials themselves have a rich history.
I collect old wood, doors, mantels, molding. Wood that has been stepped on, slammed, slept on, and kicked. I tap bowls and pots to see how they ring. Then, when the pieces are assembled, there is a kind of alchemy that happens. It’s as if these things were just waiting to be put together so they could join together and sing out.
I paint things that grow, die, cluster together, compete, deform, and cover the world with their abundance.
I like them to push up against that line of too much. Too loud, too ugly, too busy, too many, too pretty, too much. I like the paint to be thick and the colors to be bold enough so it seems like they would burn through anything you stacked against them.
I don't have a consistent method to my working process. I like it to be an improvisational journey in which I'm searching for a resolution. This let's my mind wander and allows for memories to be expressed in unexpected ways.
A painting is successful when it goes beyond an idea or a method or a subject, and is able to make you really feel something. I try to make my paintings feel like some over-looked treasure you could have found if you walked into the right place. I make paintings that I can surround myself with. It's like they are all individuals that share an interest and have all just happened to meet here.