Adventures in Art
Glenburn Station at Sunset, acrylic on paper, 80x90”/203x230cm
Some things aren’t easy to talk about.
Some words don’t do the ideas in our heads and hearts justice.
Maybe I have an inadequate vocabulary.
Maybe I prefer how color says things.
I certainly love the conversations that my paintings stir up.
I love them very much.
When I was a kid, I didn’t want to be an artist. My childhood Looney Tunes understanding of the world had me thinking I’d have to speak French and wear berets. I wanted to dig up dinosaur bones. I dug holes and drew dinosaurs. I drew a lot of dinosaurs.
I didn’t realize being an artist wasn’t a style and oftentimes, not a choice. It was how my brain worked. I stopped the digging, but never stopped drawing, exploring different mediums, creating new messes. It was part of my thought process, a necessity.
My painting and drawing help me discern the world around me. As I map out a space for ideas to live in, I spend time with the subject. The process allows for a deeper contemplation on those things beyond my grasp. My visual language creates a space of its own, a space to look, think and let ideas grow. It’s a space that invites others in.