They are the first thing I see when I get home— lines and colors on canvases and papers, a collection of my wandering thoughts and the ones that refuse to go away. I’ve caught myself looking down as I walk through the door, as if to avoid them and give myself a few more seconds of not thinking about them. I’ve felt my work pulling me in different directions lately. Should I focus on paper? Do I want to saturate the spaces with marks and colors? Or should I step back and leave more room to breathe?
It’s a little exhausting to think about it all the time and to live with them in my home studio. But yesterday was different— I took my time to really look and wonder.
“What are you trying to be?”— I asked. My paintings are close representations of the landscapes of my mind. They’ve always been.
Landscapes anywhere in the world change constantly, whether shaped by nature or human intent. They never stay the same. My paintings do that too.The things I once thought were pulling me in different directions are, in fact, all leading to the same place— my mind at different points in time, changing, adapting, evolving as it navigates my days.
I know this. Sometimes I forget, as you can see. Yesterday, I remembered.
Back to work it is.
