Creating a painting is a process both introverted and relational - it seeks to share, speak to or relate to others, yet it is shy. At its best, art "makes concrete what ... religious language cannot: that intangible, private or communal moment when we encounter being" (Stone 2003:11).
In both my landscape and interior paintings I seek to discover and explore the nature of reality; the act of painting becomes an imaginative and intensified expression of the physical world as the lines between the spiritual and physical start to collapse.
When I paint landscape, I like to re-enact the feeling of 'being there', of movement, dynamism, being aware of small geographic particularities. Sometimes a landscape presents itself to you as solemn and grand, sometimes as playful, sometimes sad.
My end is not representation, but rather the enigmatic process in which the artist and artwork enters unchartered territory together.
Like writing, the process starts with messy, loose ideas, sensations, words, brush strokes, slowly forming a clearer picture. It's a process of discovery and catharsis, but as in writing, also of loss. The artist must discard a lot of what he/she values, ultimately showing only a small, concentrated part of the actual work .
In my interior paintings – all of which represent places of personal significance - I am fond of studying the way light illuminates objects. Walls, doors and floors become luminous, displaying subtle colours and reflections, becoming almost sacred in character.