I have spent years on the border between life and death. Two of my children are designated Miracle Kids for Children’s National Hospital in Washington, D.C. Although unrelated medical issues, both defied every prognosis and are thriving today. The pain of almost losing them changed my perspective on the world. These traumas and their related miracles are in my every brush stroke. Painting has helped me work through some of this darkness and embrace the silver linings of life.
I create large-scale abstract paintings that are composed of bright tones, or contrasting colors, complimented by a dense texture. My background in photography and ceramics help inform my practice. Deeply influenced by my environment, my eyes serve as a lens in synthesizing images. My roots in three-dimensional ceramics appear in the creation of my mediums. I initially engage natural elements – sand, grass, clay, and dirt – with recycled or found industrial materials to create rich textures. I then add gesso to my canvas, wood panel or board followed by the application of the raw materials with spatulas and knives. Five to eight layers of underpainting are then applied to create a thick undulating surface. More paint is then added.
My inspiration often comes from a restless night’s sleep: the colors, shapes and movement float as I emerge into consciousness. Such elements contribute to my style – loose but connected – and are recognizable throughout my body of work. I also enjoy playing with the contradiction of opposites and know how to manipulate value, tone, and composition to this affect. I see the world in a constant state of such dichotomies – turmoil and beauty, peace and peril, harmony and disaster – which is reflected in my work.
Due to my children’s’ medical experiences, I walk through life with an altered perspective. I try to approach all things in my life with love, kindness, and appreciation and infuse such values in my art. I like for my work to feel ethereal yet have a subtle dark component. My artistic intent is to create a feeling of a memory as opposed to a memory of a specific place. I hope such sentiment shifts the way in which people see themselves and the world – beautifully flawed and impossibly kind.