‘Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes’
Walt Whitman
I have always wanted to say this out loud.
I am a painter who investigates my own experiences of the world.
I am interested in describing a process of perception, discovery and regeneration.
Spitting out paint and matter as I go along. A messy and rewarding process and something that keeps me endlessly satisfied.
Creating layers of associations from scavenged sources.
A slurry of art history, of physical landscape and emotional encounters and all the fictions I have constructed in between, especially the fictions I suppose.
I like the idea of other possibilities underneath layers of paint.
Liquid pools of cobalt blue stubbed out by crimson or layers of spectre grey. In this sense I come from a long line of painters obsessed with paint itself. Its smeariness and smell seduces me.
I rarely have a plan. I want to be surprised.