September 21st, 2016

My work has always been influenced by literature, by story telling, by a book’s ability to let a person live inside an other person’s thoughts, walk with their feet- and by the space a book provides in which the reader can create their own picture, textured by their own experience and shaped by cues from the author.
The stories I endeavor to tell are influenced by place, place as a character, place with a mood and a history, the mind as a place. Moving to Savannah, Georgia from Baltimore, I feel clearly the impact a place can make to a person’s own mood, ambitions, lifestyle, heart. I take care to admit that I am an unreliable narrator, lonely, born in rural Connecticut, unsettled, uncomfortable, and desiring to understand, belong, help, matter, in a place where I feel like a stranger. I approach these subjects and imagine these stories from where I am, first person, and hope that the story of the viewer becomes an other layer in the narrative.

The layers of wax and pigment and photocopy make up a scene, they are a palimpsest, a history. The paintings want not just to be seen but to be given a job. My work wants to narrate, to keep creating. I put the world into my work—the colors and forms, the juxtaposition and conflict, strokes of color and bits of text—and my work, if it can, sends it all out again. It all goes to you, for you, at you.

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