Beauty is concealed and revealed, witnessed by the rocks and stream, and one anther. The boundaries between landscape and figure blurs. Ambiguity breeds obsession.
What if art was affordable? What if anyone could walk into a gallery and take home an original? It fits in your pocket, pressed against your thigh and iPhone. So small you want to kiss it. And the subject: flowers and death. There is energy and magic in the contrast, and the marriage.
In some languages, the same word is used for "mountains" and "breasts." Obviously because of the visual likeness. But also because of the way each functions: nurturer, mystery, mecca. Learning to paint these forms requires confidence in the mark, confidence in the touch, and a willingness to receive as you give.
I want to see the process, the part of becoming that is obscured by the speed and craving of a destination. I want to feel the struggle, the fruits of wildness, and the truth of the in-between spaces.