The next time you come by it might be gone or altered beyond recognition. Loss is inevitable and so I paint to capture and preserve what has captured me.
I began as a realistic watercolor painter of panoramic views alternating with the closely observed beauty of individual plants, trees, apples, leaves. Gradually my work became more abstract as I began focusing on patterns and repetition, on the essence of the memory rather than the precise visual representation of it.
In 2015 I moved into acrylic, sometimes using it like watercolor (as in Beyond the Pale) and sometimes very thickly on Yupo (as in Pandora, or Dancing). Regardless of the medium, it's all about feeling and remembering. In some cases, the memory is so overwhelming, I paint to regain some balance in my life (as in my Crossroads paintings dealing with the atomic bomb tests in the Pacific).
Since 2018, I’ve been painting with acrylic on raw canvas, creating very atmospheric views of the landscapes, cloudscapes, waterscapes, sunsets I see as I travel or just look outside my window. Water sometimes looks like sky … or outer space; clouds can resemble waves. Sometimes you know what they are, sometimes you don’t. But the common denominator is that they are always changing.
During the Pandemic of Covid-19, stuck at home and running out of raw canvas, I started experimenting with texture: visible brush strokes or palette knife on gessoed canvas, moving from sunsets and travel images to remembered childhood winters in Canada.
Whatever the medium, whatever the technique, my work is all about loss and change. Painting is my way of remembering and paying homage to what is ephemeral, something I may never see again. Through my painting, I create stability in my life, capturing and restoring what might otherwise be lost.