I’m fascinated by the practice of “putting an idea on the table.” This phrase, used frequently in my life as an art educator is meant to be a way for us to share a thought, without being emotionally attached to it… so it can be examined, and improved. Instead of it being my idea, it’s now an independent thing in the world that we can work on together. I thought about using that same process in putting an emotion on the table—to examine it, and let it live beyond my body.
To be able to talk about a feeling without it holding me hostage.
My painting practice takes the idea on the table and makes it into a physical thing, even if it’s an unnameable thing. A spectrum of my inner world is on display — from turbulent anxiety, to precise centeredness. I think of these paintings as telling a psychological story. Its cast of characters that resist easy identification, but invite wondering. These paintings on canvas are made with translucent color layers, acrylic mediums and paper pulp. I brush, scrape, smear, sand at the surface until a tarnished vibrancy emerges. The pictorial space is a churning and stormy world that exists somewhere from quantum to galactic scale.
I don’t know where that place is, but I’ve felt that way before. And I survived it.