As I work I do not contemplate a painting’s end result, but instead move forward mark by mark, layer upon layer, considering each action individually. These maneuvers can be altered or masked, but never taken back, never erased. So the compositions rely on my intuition to the extent that I am appraising the color, shape, and texture of each stroke, of each collection of strokes, desiring to establish a meaningful relationship among them. These are paintings assembled by the piece and revealed to me incrementally. To the viewer they come all at once.

Although nonrepresentational, recognizable forms can take shape--blades of grass, a coral reef, radioactive matter, bolts of lightning, architectural structures, microscopic organisms, street lamps, or oil spills. I allow it. To me, these forms even seem to exhibit qualities of human behavior. Shapes can be loud and obnoxious, or they can be quiet and sophisticated. They can be nurturing, or deceitful. And as such they can converse among themselves and affect one another.

To bring about a certain measure of diversity, or activity, I experiment with the application of the acrylics, in thin washes and thick coats, but also by implementing cake decorating extruders, an airbrush, stencils, rubber cement, and other methods that might fall outside of traditional use. The overall process is meticulous, and this precision imbues a sense of control on what is otherwise quite uncertain. What matters is momentum, accumulation, and the convivial communal clash.