I have spent many hours, over many years, closely observing and meditating on the structures that surround my summer home. I have become fascinated by their geometry and the additional shapes created by cast shadows that change and turn depending on my vantage point and the sun’s position. The outward shapes change, yet I know the underlying structure remains the same.
As I repeatedly draw and redraw these same structures, I seek out the subtle relationships between shapes. Sometimes I see new shapes and I am amazed that I never noticed them before. The lines that bound the shapes will shift depending on my point of view, but the fact that they always lie connected on the same plane ensures their innate relationship: a triangle remains a triangle even when I can’t see it. There is something about this “truth” that makes me hopeful.
The paintings develop slowly over time and many changes are made along the way. Often, I sit back and ponder them hanging on my studio wall and I contemplate the shape and color relationships developing in the painting, similar to the way I previously studied them on the actual house. I am not trying to replicate exactly what it looked like but more of what it felt like to look at them. Now and then I need to reconnect with that feeling. I continue adjusting until I achieve the color harmony and a balance of shape and space and the painting evokes in me a sense of feeling grounded and centered and connected to something eternal. When I recognize that, it is finished.