series

growing up

The Growing Up series explores memories of place – my childhood home in Maine – across several decades. The layers in my paintings mirror how memory itself functions: some images come into focus, some images fade, some memories cover over others, and a larger picture emerges from accumulation. These paintings investigate a universal experience of living that all of us, regardless of location, share. READ THE NARRATIVES.

While we spent most summer days on the shores of Maine, the neighbor’s swimming pool was a world just outside of my set boundaries. The allure of it’s expansive turquoise gleam and wafting scent of chlorine, felt like a different planet. We were never allowed to cross the border without permission from the neighbors AND the accompaniment of a parent. Once we got into the pool, there was a whole new set of rules. (Stay in the shallow end, no running, one hour only, and of course no peeing.) I recall it being a rare treat. Today it is filled in, but not in my mind’s eye.

When I learned to ride a bike I wanted nothing more than to ride it on the street. Just around the shrubs. But, that was against the rules. I would be confined to our dirt driveway. Even though our house set back and the driveway was long, the idea of riding on smooth pavement – just over there – was a boundary I would push when no one was looking. The freedom I felt breaking that particular rule was exhilarating. A feeling I would continue to seek out as I grew up.

We never had chickens. The previous owners did. This is a view from the kitchen window. As kids, it was a secret clubhouse that sat on the furthermost boundary of our property. Yet, not out of my mother’s view from the kitchen window. It was the chicken coop where I experienced how naughty the neighborhood boys could be. To this day, it’s cornflower blue door keeps close watch on the back yard.

intimacy

In this series I am exploring relationship and intimacy -- with myself and the world around me. These ideas – especially as I get older – have taken on new meaning. These paintings depict my internal landscape – what relationship and intimacy mean to me as a woman, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a human being, and an artist. The simplicity of line and shapes in these paintings aim to reduce the complex idea of intimacy into the basic human need for intimacy. Which, I believe, begins with our relationship to ourselves. The scale and directness of these pieces underscores the gravity of this subject for me.

black + white abstracts

About The Work
This work combines gestural drawing, mark making, painting, collage and form. I approached this work monochromatically to allow these elements to be felt and seen. These paintings aim to provoke the presence of quiet strength. This body of work explores the idea of what is constant –– are we the constant? Is the sky the constant? More importantly, how do we remain grounded day to day, minute by minute, no matter what changes around us.

About The Process
The process of making these pictures began over a year ago. I hung five 36” x 36” wood panels in a row on the studio wall with black squares painted on them. I recall the impact these simple but powerful forms had on me. I let them sit for weeks. Meanwhile, I began making drawings with black paint and graphite on big sheets of paper. This led me to collaging the drawings onto the paintings. I explored changing the scale of the drawings and had them blown up. I cut up the drawings and taped them to the panels. I worked building up the layers with paint, collage, scribing into wet paint with graphite. Each layer creating it’s own history. Again, I left them like this for weeks. Meanwhile, in order to test my process, I worked on smaller pieces (12” x12”) before completing the larger works. Once I had a clear approach, I was able to finalize the paintings.

oceans

As I mentioned in my statement, the ocean is a place I return to again and again. Although it has given me comfort and stability through the years, at times the water has also felt like a wall, its horizon a solid line that I’m unable to cross. The sea is expansive, but also solid. This series simplifies a complex entity into three constants: sky, wave, and sea. The color combinations represent what is not constant: the mood of the ocean on any given day, night, or season in relationship to my state-of-being upon encountering the ocean on a particular visit.

pieces of me

These assemblages are created from scraps of my paintings. I am exploring materials, and how arbitrary pieces find ways of relating to each other. They are painted paper mounted on panel, held together with wire and staples.

heaven+earth

What is heaven, and how long does it take to get there? What is the soul? How does it exist when the body dies? Is heaven on earth? Can we access our loved ones once they’ve left their physical body? What is their journey like? No answers. But it feels good to process these emotions.