My work is concerned with inner emotion, the sense of solitude, introspection; at times a sense of loss. Be it in the subjective rendering of reality or the compilation of abstract forms, my work offers vehicles for self-reflection, invitations to contemplation. The underlying sense of absence, separation, and isolation present in my work probes an inner world of spirituality that speaks to the singular journey of life.

I choose to work with paint: oil and acrylic. I enjoy the fluidity of the medium, its transparency and conversely its opaqueness, its ability to transform, to be shy or bold, lustrous or somber. I enjoy watching light emerge or retreat with the juxtaposition of color and, foremost, I enjoy it as a means of outward expression of an inner experience.

Inherent throughout my work is an echoing emotional tone. Natural and urban landscapes, nonobjective, natures mortes, and personages (examples After the Rain, the series Requiem for a Condemned Queen as well as Serenity and Celestial Bodies II) while different in subject matter could all be described as atmospheric; as having a quality that borders on the surreal.

Much of my work is informed by my background in architecture; not only in subject matter but in the tools I employ such as perspective, line and grid. In Urban Grid and Mauve Stripes with Gold, for example, the juxtaposition of “drafted” lines and overlapping grids on painterly backgrounds impose structure but do not inhibit. These rhythmic devices represent the multiple and often conflicting qualities within each of us, control and spontaneity, good and evil, the yin and yang of 

existence.

In another sense, my work addresses the intrinsic contradiction of conveying motion in static, two-dimensional means of expression. Whether it be the ebb and flow of Mauve Stripes with Gold, the spirited rhythm of Corps de Ballet, or the combustible energy of Horse and Rider, the sense of movement is observed, detached, and references the singularity of experience. Even the activity of a crowded café as in de la fenêtre is observed from a distance, suggesting a sense of isolation. From a place of solitude I invite the viewer to consider his/her individuality and experience a moment of self-reflection.