ARTIST'S STATEMENT

My artwork is the result of a lifetime of gathering. I take textures and shapes from nature, then reinvent and reorder them. I find images in dreams and archetypal mythology. I study plants, colors, and patterns of human movement. I incorporate synesthesia and allow myself a free hand with the exploration of images. A lot of my work is simply intuitive. For me, creating art is an offering to the collective human experience and a homage to the mystical and spiritual aspects of everyday life.

I’m inspired by the concepts of micro and macro as they relate to nature and to human consciousness. Repetition pulses through composition then changes into something new. Matter is balanced with nothingness. Dreams fascinate me, as does Jungian psychology and the concept of a collective unconscious. I’ve always had an active, vivid dream life, and images from dreams frequently find their way into my work. Through art, I seek to strengthen the links between different realities. 

I primarily use ink and gouache on large pieces of watercolor paper. Gouache has a seductive purity of pigment, and the precision of ink balances bold colors. Most of my paintings are fairly large – up to eight feet by ten feet. Working on this scale allows me to create a sense of atmosphere. On closer examination, however, my work is full of tiny detailed patterns that merge and shift and change.

The art I’ve made in the last few years is charged with emotion. It documents the alchemical process of personal growth, change and rebirth.

HOW TO CLOSE A DOOR

When the phone is hung up

and the screen remains blank,

but the threads of loss

and questions

and imagination

still float free,

find a dark stone.

Any one will do,

but let it have weight in your hand

and let that weight feel heavy.

When silence follows you,

but is occupied by ghosts

and shreds of color

that flap in the wind like old prayer flags,

cut a branch that flows rich with sap.

Get the stickiness on your hands –

it’s hard to wash off.

Cut a ripe tomato with a sharp knife.

See how it slices through the tender flesh

so cleanly.

Make a stew and eat it hot enough

to almost burn your mouth.

Make a pile of bones,

if you can find some.

When you wake up in the darkest hours of

the night,

peek into the private spaces of your soul,

and see if you still have a few tears to

shed,

even if those rivers of grief have largely

dried,

and are now full of sunbaked rocks

and parched willows.

The nocturnal animals:

the owls

the mice

the roaches

the raccoons

the bobcats

roam outside your den,

carrying on their night-work.

Albuquerque, NM - 2022