In my work, I play with words. I can combine words with paint in unexpected ways and elicit an emotional response. There is an exactness to words that makes for an endless playground. I am able to describe, distort or elevate virtually anything. The way words are rendered in any painting is the essence of how a piece changes a letterform into an artform. The nature of the paint and how I choose to work with it, methodically and precisely or courting the accident, allows me to cultivate how a piece reveals itself. First, I find the words.
Words by their nature demand to be read, so I use that in my paintings. Seeing words or letters where they may not belong, they must be read for it to make sense. It’s done involuntarily. Letterforms and words can reveal themselves in subtle ways, jump out boldly or sometimes become impossible to decipher. I try to manipulate this in many ways. I may weave words with other words, render them in another language or deliberately fragment them. Sometimes I seek to make use of their shapes so that they appear foreign and familiar all at once. I might lay down a line of paint covering the words and live with that awhile. Maybe I do another. Where these elements intersect is where the nature of the paint transforms the work and a kind of magic can happen, and this is the heart of what compels me to paint. That conversation between color, line, shape and surface can unexpectedly give me a sense of exuberance. It can be sublime. It can feel somehow pure. I’d like to think anyone can experience that when they look at my work.