Sometimes I play a mental game in the studio, pretending to be a patient painting in an asylum, convinced it’s up to me to save the world with my art. I paint every stroke as if the future were at stake.
When I shared this idea with my wife, she said, “Isn’t that, in a way, what it’s like for everyone? If you dial back the delusional part, aren’t we all saving our small part of the world as we do our tasks?”
She’s right. The future of the world, like a painting, hangs on countless little decisions. So, for all of us, there is a lot riding on the quality of our imagination and creativity.
My recent work seems to be about bringing order out of chaos, or pulling as much beauty as possible out of very simple relationships. Some are quiet, some are playful, some are exuberant. All are obsessed with color.
Each was an attempt to love a tiny corner of the universe into existence, as if every little moment matters. Because it does.