Asking an artist to write an artist statement is like asking a poet to describe her verse by painting a picture. Vibrant lime green against a brilliant violet. Tangerine made with hints of quinacridone rose. Cadmium red light and sap green with a splash of ultramarine blue to create one of a hundred shades of brown in a winter landscape. Mentors and friends along the way in the early years, in Bar Harbor and West Palm Beach, living the life. Painting all day, going out all night, surrounded by artists, poets, actors, musicians, dancers. It was a scene; it was the epitome of bohemian, the stories I could tell. So many friends are gone now. The memories and lessons remain. Pay attention, you might learn something. Slow down the pace of your life so that you notice the little things. Stay pure, but be responsible, pay the bills, take care of your family. What is the artist’s best kept secret? I will never tell. How long did it take you to paint that?
Here is what I know. It takes a lifetime of practice and discipline. As a formally educated landscape architect and self-taught artist, my work has always fundamentally been about the essence of a landscape. My paintings are layers of time and stories, the real and surreal, energy repressed and released as I play with complementary and analogous color, all while building upon the form beneath. I think art parallels life, so as I reflect on personal experience and absorb world events, I paint as visual metaphor and mental construct. Lines and arcs that move and contain at the same time. Color to express beauty, truth, love, memory. My paintings are energetic and expressive explorations, evocative of nature but not necessarily representative of it. Ultimately, painting takes discipline and practice so I try to paint more, and think less. Often there are no words; fortunately there is always art.
Asking an artist to write an artist statement is like asking a poet to describe her verse by painting a picture. Vibrant lime green against a brilliant violet. Tangerine made with hints of quinacridone rose. Cadmium red light and sap green with a splash of ultramarine blue to create one of a hundred shades of brown in a winter landscape. Mentors and friends along the way in the early years, in Bar Harbor and West Palm Beach, living the life. Painting all day, going out all night, surrounded by artists, poets, actors, musicians, dancers. It was a scene; it was the epitome of bohemian, the stories I could tell. So many friends are gone now. The memories and lessons remain. Pay attention, you might learn something. Slow down the pace of your life so that you notice the little things. Stay pure, but be responsible, pay the bills, take care of your family. What is the artist’s best kept secret? I will never tell. How long did it take you to paint that?
Here is what I know. It takes a lifetime of practice and discipline. As a formally educated landscape architect and self-taught artist, my work has always fundamentally been about the essence of a landscape. My paintings are layers of time and stories, the real and surreal, energy repressed and released as I play with complementary and analogous color, all while building upon the form beneath. I think art parallels life, so as I reflect on personal experience and absorb world events, I paint as visual metaphor and mental construct. Lines and arcs that move and contain at the same time. Color to express beauty, truth, love, memory. My paintings are energetic and expressive explorations, evocative of nature but not necessarily representative of it. Ultimately, painting takes discipline and practice so I try to paint more, and think less. Often there are no words; fortunately there is always art.