
How do you paint humidity? The sound of cicadas? A summer storm? These experiences in nature provide a gateway into a world that commands presence — calling me to quiet the chatter, expand into silence and observe sensations.
This sensory language has deep memory and a quiet power to it and although there are no words, there is something spoken between us. I become profoundly aware of its intelligence, recognizing it as a sacred space to both heal and inform my art. This pure, vibrant energy is the place from which I paint — eventually holding space for the viewer to enter and bring their story to the experience.
Art making reminds me I am a part of the always changing energy of nature. Together with the materials and this activated experience, a transformation takes place within me and on the canvas. As with life, the journey and the outcome are endlessly intriguing.
Sections
How do you paint humidity? The sound of cicadas? A summer storm? These experiences in nature provide a gateway into a world that commands presence — calling me to quiet the chatter, expand into silence and observe sensations.
This sensory language has deep memory and a quiet power to it and although there are no words, there is something spoken between us. I become profoundly aware of its intelligence, recognizing it as a sacred space to both heal and inform my art. This pure, vibrant energy is the place from which I paint — eventually holding space for the viewer to enter and bring their story to the experience.
Art making reminds me I am a part of the always changing energy of nature. Together with the materials and this activated experience, a transformation takes place within me and on the canvas. As with life, the journey and the outcome are endlessly intriguing.
Sections