Enchanted by the idyllic Hudson Valley landscape that I call home, I have spent the better part of my painting career capturing hidden details in nature and recreating them in my studio. My creative methods are shaped by my inherent artistic inclination as well as classic pedagogical influence. In school I preferred palette knives and thick paint over brushes and I admit that I am driven by nostalgia for 20th century modernist painters. I have no conceptual overlay, I simply observe a curious pattern or shape not necessarily remarkable, record it in my head and recreate it on canvas. I let a pure and raw innocence take over in hopes of a creative freedom from societal influence which is voiced in the landscapes that I make. My art making is an uncomplicated conduit coming from the natural world.
I like to think of my work as liminal, not fully abstract and not exactly realistic. Like an improvisational performance, these “liminal” paintings are both started and finished in one fluent session. My process begins with a simple line drawing on white canvas. Then with a pallet knife I fill in blocks of color, each hue present in and crucial to the blending of the next. Rich in texture as well as saturation, the finished painting is a bold and tactile deconstruction of nature’s hidden beauty.
I celebrate the ephemeral because nothing in nature is stationary, but for a moment I will see something in its essential form and take that memory back to the studio. I don’t care so much about recreating what I saw exactly, but rather evoking its emotional value through color and shape in a melancholy manner that longs for nature's effortless artistry. I let the action of painting flow like it did when I was five.