My paintings are gaudy. Thick, garish, and fierce. Gaudiness is about intensity, density, and the provocation to frazzle. A delusion of grandeur heavily weighted by its own encrusted mass. I paint things over again and again to get to this encrusted mass. An accretion of imagery, a profusion of dabs, colorful strokes, smears, mistakes, washes, tangents, and indentations building up a surface.
The gaudy is a fragrant saturation. Devotion, desire, and detail are the dials that gauge the grandeur of the gaudy. Like a cat brushing its head on objects to scent and communicate with a space, I paint things over again and again with an obsession to get closer to the texture of the world. My paintings are a filmy membrane of translucence, not opaque as to block or impede sight, and not transparent, as to cloak or be an unerring wraith, unattainable to vision, but rather a glowing mesh that gleans new sights. Painting as an engine of endurance that frazzles the senses, pushes the body to the brink of exhaustion while holding it there locked in suspended animation. Frazzled with feeling. In short, exhausted, but craving more.