I paint because I bleed Alizarin Crimson. As a small child - third grade, to be exact - I painted a watercolor sun into a sky and CREATED A COLOR! I was amazed at how simply I could generate a new color that wasn’t there before. I remain awe-struck, still, at this constant new discovery of color creation and juxtaposition. Because I am a colorist I have a great need to present to the world what color can do. My work is also about introspection — spiritual, psychological, soul-searching.

My art is a journey inward as much as it is an exploration of color. I invite viewers to take a moment, breathe, and find their own meanings in my work. It's about embracing personal interpretation and freedom.

My process is a dance between chaos and order. I start by layering colors and shapes until the canvas feels alive with movement. Then, I strip away the excess, revealing a harmonious composition underneath—a reflection of the clarity I seek in the world.

I am excited by the evolution of shapes and the discovery of how movement impacts each of these shapes to become cohesive. Channeling the process rather than focusing on product wrenches the visceral truth. Finishing touches and fine-tuning soften the blow.

For me, there is much listening to authentic intuitiveness with abstraction and, it always requires music. I have been exploring a new technique of drawing with dried acrylic skins (residues) that are adhered to the canvas just because they are so beautiful I cannot bear to destroy them.

As in all art, my work reflects my personal domain, reflection and history. Lightness and joy are new to my paintings - previous works were usually forebodingly dark portraits based on German Expressionism. What remains pure and consistent is coloration and intensity. I see abstraction everywhere - in nature, in architecture, in my mind’s eye. Look at a window - study each individual pane and you just might see an infinite number of exciting compositions of line, color, dimension, perspective and form, as I do.