Time Moves In Lopsided Circles
November 2019 - April 2021
The Galaxy in the universe, the planets around the sun, the moon around the earth, all travel in multi- dimensional ellipses. This movement creates time. Here on Earth, we feel the motion of the cosmos and the passage of time. The calendar only tells part of the story. Memories and sensory input give a visceral telling of our space-time travelings. And what a ride it truly is. The following paintings are a collection of exclamatory reactions to moments and spaces in time fueled by memory, stress, impending doom, also excitement, dance, song and celebration. We find ourselves in the same moments over and over again, yet each is uniquely different, and we ourselves are different. We arrive on our birthdays, marking a full rotation since standing on that calendar box last, altered.
These canvases were a mirror of me during a year and a half period, which encompassed a vast range of human emotion. Each layer was created using a selected palette that matched my mood and the mark making matched my thoughts. I began by throwing and pouring paint, letting the paint be the guide. I would let these sit for a long time before working on them again, letting myself change and therefore the images, too. I would rearrange the canvases on the floor, pour more paint, then switch to a brush. Wait another month, sometimes more sometimes less, then repeat. Once the pandemic hit in March 2020, I found myself with much more time to paint and a greater need to cope with the undercurrents of an ill fated society that were surfacing. My mark making turned to fine detail and I began to layer an acrylic paint marker and tissue paper in. These uncharted territories of human life needed new textures. Then as anger mounted I threw and poured much more paint. Eventually, I stopped pouring paint all together and tinkered with a small brush for months working on just a few paintings at a time. I sold pieces along the way. For a long time these paintings were directionless and barren landscapes. Layer upon layer, the strata built up these abstract landscapes, meaning was made and a path was carved. These paintings needed time and deep love, and so did I, and here we arrive, another marker of time, process and healing.
