I can be content to not do much in a day but look, feeling thoroughly occupied with seeing. What I especially look for are patterns that have the fractal-like means of reflecting what lies beyond my horizon. In life, I want to understand some of what happens, but not all. I like the fullness of potential that comes with not quite knowing where we’re headed. I want the viewers of my work to somehow recognize things they have never seen before.

My process begins in a chaos of broad spontaneous gestures, accidental arrangements of colors, until particular areas of the canvas draw my attention. Then, I define the edges of what I like with contrasting paint, blanking out the rest, using my brush as a chisel, as if cutting through raw matter. What I cut out, I attend to and render with as much care as the rest – no such thing as emptiness.

Partway through this kind carving – and the layering of colors and textures where more of that is needed – otherworldly scenes and beings begin to emerge. No matter who they are or what it is, what I paint is my affinity for discovery and doubt. I show a world that has no constraint, no impulse other than to reach out, continuously, for the edge of itself.