My work begins with a point of departure, sometimes an observed scene, sometimes an idea, but it never stays there for long. Once a painting is underway, it starts to speak for itself. I listen for that voice as color, gesture, shape, balance, and line begin to unfold, guiding the piece into something I couldn’t have fully planned.
I’m interested in the process as much as the outcome. Each painting evolves through a kind of conversation, where emotion anchors the work but rarely in a singular way. Feelings shift, overlap, and settle into forms that are often abstract, where imagination has room to lead. At times, the human figure emerges not as a literal presence, but as a reflection of mood or attitude, something sensed more than clearly defined.
Abstraction allows me to hold onto that ambiguity. It creates space for both myself and the viewer to engage more freely, to find meaning that isn’t fixed but felt. Ultimately, the work has to carry a sense of energy and openness. There’s a kind of joy in making an element of play that feels essential. If a painting doesn’t hold that, I continue to work it, letting it shift and change, until it does.