writing
Painting is a negotiation of ideas taking physical shape: sometimes proud, lovely, or awkward, and most often un-heroic. Like Zen Koans, paintings serve as riddles meant for contemplation, not as vehicles for a singular message or conclusion.
My recent pieces use the material stuff of painting as structure. The unstretched raw canvases warp and wrinkle based on how they are made—putting the process of becoming as much on display as the finished product. They balance between favoring the surface of painting and asserting their objecthood in an effort to keep the viewer constantly questioning, thoughtfully present, and even possibly a bit uncomfortable. Thus paintings facilitate bodily experiences and we get to—for a fleeting moment—set aside the notion of knowing and be suspended simply in a state of being.