Streets // Houses // Sky
At first glance, my paintings look like they may be ink drawings, but I go through the process of mixing my own black oil paint from alizarian crimson, prussian blue, and burnt umber, to produce a deep and layered black. Once a mark is made, there is no going back.
Streets—the reality of the city where everything happens and is overlooked. A place where people will see only as far as their eyes let them. I grew up in Texas, a land dominated by roads and cars, where it is easy to be alone. Now I live in San Francisco, a city of sidewalks. Walking is how I get around. Walking gives us a chance to slow down, for our thoughts to catch up with us. It's also a way to connect us to the neighborhoods where we live—it's easier to meet people, to stop and look around. Everything starts from the ground up.
Every mistake lives in the painting.
Houses—the story of the city. Buildings shouting their history from rooftops only to be forgotten by the ground below. An accumulation of people's ideas. Protection from the outside world. A space where we hide our thoughts and desires, but also where we share those same things with people we love.
In life, scenes exist as a memory—a meditation of the past and what's to come. It requires me to slow down while painting, like slowing down to look at the city.
The sky above. A moment of hope, a passing beauty, a memory flickering as thousands of years go by. The flowers float in the air, suspended in a sunbeam. Clouds dance in the afternoon sky. The stars and sky connects us all. It is where our dreams reside.