Walking alone in nature, my eyes in long focus and my peripheral vision highly active, I pick up sideways glimpses of things. What I am seeking is the essence of things. I return full of impressions, which take time to digest. I paint remembering what I experienced out there - unique signature lines, flashes of color, feelings of things which do not allow being observed directly. For instance, how does ones paint the wind?
I recompose these parts differently than the way most of us would agree that we see them when we walk in nature. I try to take in everything, then later put these things down with all the senses revealed in the painting. Thus, looking deeply, one finds tiny jewels of meaning.
These works are earth, sky and sea scapes, posing questions about the condition of our cosmos in relationship to human beings, over time. Time longer than one human generation. Such as our collective and individual relationship to our largest surroundings. I am trying to put these ideas down on my silk.
Of the process, I work mostly outside, starting with large pieces of white silk, stretched across horizontal working frames. The music is wind, bird sounds, shuffling leaves. I prepare the quietness of the atmosphere first. The simple tasks of sweeping, cleaning, mixing the palette - all draw me into the inspiration.
My brush flows out the color onto the pure white silk. Depth and richness develop as layers of inks are flowed onto the silk, between drying times. The work is intense and meaningful.
There are many steps to silk painting. The artist begins with luminous silk cloth. Liquid dyes follow warp and weft water. It dries in open air, then steaming to set the color, washing to rinse out excess dye, ironing, and finally stretching over a thick canvas frame, becoming an object of beauty and reflection.