Whether obviously or invisibly, my work contains the time of its making. Each piece is a concentration of many “paintings” (a series of consecutively painted actions). My process combines systems of accrual with a personal, broad-based exploration of color as a means of exploring how our experiences and memories literally pile up. I allow and encourage the build-up of paint to act in a three dimensional manner, at times doing away with the support altogether.

Many of my sculptures consist entirely of thin sheets of acrylic paint, poured out into trays from which they are peeled after drying. Stacked, the edges of these delicate yet flexible sheets of paint take on the appearance of the pages of old books curled with water or heat. The material defines the form of the piece. In my two dimensional works, layers of paint function as a way of visually marking the passage of time, suggesting a calendar or journal as they simultaneously assert the medium’s inherent materiality. As each successive color covers all but a band of the previous one, slight irregularities of application become amplified. A painting, in a painting, in a painting.  More is concealed than revealed.

Incremental layers of paint are applied as part of my daily routine: as I go to or return from work, or in the moments between making dinner and eating it, or before going to bed.   I select colors based on personal systems, sometimes referring to the text of a book that I am reading or the lyrics of a song, reflecting shared meals, or bits of conversations overheard.  In a way, what I make coincides with my conception of existence-- that we are made up of concretions and layers of experiences: sorrows, joys, pains, loves, fears, hopes. In my work, all of these come together, in a record of highly personal experience that is intended for all to share even as much of it remains hidden from view, sealed within the process of its own making.