"How do I explain that losing one of my tennis shoes, one that I paint in, affects my painting equally as much as the writing of this statement? Everything is part of the process. The process is a retracing of thoughts and marks and remarks and corrections. And when it is finished I wonder what does it all mean? Meaning is an afterthought. These paintings are a reflection of what I am struggling with and thinking about, both in my conscious and my unconscious thoughts. Feeling with my gut, which has more nerve endings than the heart or brain.
My process goes something like this: I get up in the morning and read something random from Gregory Bateson and Walt Whitman. Gregory Bateson because he writes about the 'pattern of thought which connects', a definition based on relation and not on what it pretends to be itself. I read a Walk Whitman poem for his gigantic presence of optimism and that everything is about a godly relationship between man and the world.
I then put it all aside and paint. Raymond Carver said 'I don't write, I rewrite"... I guess I don't paint as much as I tend to re-work the canvas. I paint like a tradesman, a baker, a knitter; making adjustments to the colors and surface and how it makes me feel; still influenced by the thoughts of patterns and relationships.
There is an inter-relationship of form, process, contradictions and turmoil reflected in my paintings. Complete stability and utter chaos describe any system."