Naming a painting has become an important part of my process. Equally as important as the composition itself. That doesn't mean the title has to be overly clever or complex, just honest. Quite often a title will lurk in my mind as I am working on a painting. Then there are times when I just can't name it. Why is that? Often, while painting I feel suspended in time and deeply engaged in the various axes that go into making art. Sometimes I think the consciousness that goes into the work is way ahead of my ability to understand. Which may explain why I can leave a painting thinking it's not done, or it's not very good, only to return a day later, to see that I was wrong. I recognize there is a necessary "cooling period" where my emotions get a rest, and I can return to the painting with objectivity. Needless to say, it can take a while for me and the painting to align. Then, quite often, the title will show up.

One of the most common questions I am asked is: When do you know the painting is finished?" I used to respond with a quote by Leonardo da Vinci – "never finished only abandoned". While this is true, when is the the painting finished? Personally, it is when I name it. Much like putting a period at the end of a sentence, it marks the completion of a thought. And that is important for me and my relationship with the painting. Not unlike closure. Or saying goodbye.

Like other forms of art, whether song, dance, or poetry, the performance is left for the audience. The name or title is its reference that gives it a place in the world. And that, in my mind, requires as much thought as the work itself.