There are two opposing directions I come from when finding my way into a painting.
The first starting point is the space or structure associated with a memory. Architecture either threatens or welcomes you. Once you're near or inside there's a pact that says you're in collusion. You've become part of it and it of you. The difference between being embraced or trapped by a structure.
The second are the fading details, the organic surfaces or edges that seem to deteriorate in real life or my mind’s eye. An earthen path, a crumbling wall, an overgrown garden that is linked with an event. The blur comes from the physical effect of rushing through a space or the effect emotion can have on the mind when recording events.
My series titled "Decomposition" is the capture of those elusive, rotting, fading memories and places. Organic textures that are constantly changing, maybe too slowly for us to see it happing. The dots that form a pixilated mental image loses part of the patchwork as other events overlap it.
The materials I use to create these pieces want to disintegrate by their very nature. Sand, coffee, diluted cement, they want to run, separate. I manipulate them and finally suspend them in a moment.