Artist's Statement 2020
My paintings are here to do a job, a task of which they assign and destroy the criteria. A job even I might not understand. My paintings are so full they may have to take off their belts and unbutton their pants.
None of it should be forgotten, that is my responsibility. That is the mission of these paintings: to be archival (a record), to be in control (and to remind others that they are not), to play (for all the times I could not), and to process (my experiences). The world pauses for me to change the direction my feet point. I glaze my way to color, keeping my body moving because I feel better when I’m moving. Pushing plastic paint. I have tried for a formalist explanation, it feels rough against my skin. A new world requires a new vocabulary.
I watch the plastic dry. The surface is built, constructed like a house with a solid foundation. I have carefully drawn up the floor-plan, erected the skeleton on which the painting will live and grow strong. Every move I make is there to stay, even if the foundation is covered up, the skeleton will always exist and nothing I do or say or think or dream can take it away, (Descartes reminds me this is probably all a dream).
Layering the paint is when I really fall in love. Layering is when I pretend that I am David Lynch.
I look out the window and see green. I look into my mother’s eyes and see guilt. I look at my hands and I can still see the plastic of paint but it’s new and it’s speaking to me, and it is telling me that I am not done – not even close to done.