It’s hard to look back on so many memories and recall which of those are truths, which have become memories of memories, or mixtures of those that were proabably imbedded with those stories others have told us long ago, those dreams we encounter nightly, fleeting yet so realistic in our sleep state that they confuse, excite, provide nostalgic reverie and from time time awaken us with a generous smile. What is and what isn’t, what was and what remains possible?
My paintings certainly allow me the freedom to recreate my past and reinvent my future but more often than not, they become something so revealing that they teach me and allow me to reflect on so much that I have experienced in these decades of having lived a full and mostly luscious life. All of my artwork begins with color, line and random, intuitive shapes, The landscapes unfold ,each in their own time and the figures never cease to amaze as they revel themselves, without any plan, intention or previously constructed narrative. The figures inevitably tell me who and what to paint, what they will be doing in each piece, if and when they prefer to remain alone or could use the support of additional character(s) in the story.
I am sure that I paint what I need for myself in any given moment and then rejoice when others find their own personal stories within my paintings. The moments I wish for, hoped for and actually lived, come to life in the artwork. The aspirations I hold for my family, my children and grandchildren also find their way into the shapes and forms, color and details….the layers hold all the rest. Where I reveal and disguise the mystery, ethereal sensations, lost and found edges, textures and symbolic marks, where the most meaning exists, where the memories remain embedded, the truths to be discovered in any way the viewer may decide.