The Work

Every painting begins the same way.

With uncertainty.

I don't start with a sketch, a blueprint, or a fixed image in my mind. I start with curiosity. A mark. A color. A texture. Then another. The painting reveals itself one decision at a time.

That's the part of abstraction that continues to fascinate me.

Nothing is predetermined.

Every painting in this body of work is built through observation, instinct, revision, and trust. Layers are added, removed, buried, uncovered, and reworked until something begins to feel inevitable. I spend as much time responding to the painting as I do creating it.

The process is a conversation.

Not a performance.

Painting as Discovery

I've never been interested in illustrating an idea.

I'm interested in discovering one.

The paintings aren't attempts to represent a landscape, a memory, or a specific moment. They grow from experiences that are much harder to define. Atmosphere. Rhythm. Tension. Movement. The feeling a place leaves behind long after you've left it. The emotional residue that remains when a conversation, a concert, or a season of life has ended.

Those things can't always be described.

They can be felt.

That's where I want the work to live.

Built Through Layers

Every surface carries its own history.

Paint is applied, scraped away, covered, sanded, drawn into, and rebuilt. Some marks survive from the first day. Others disappear beneath dozens of layers. Every decision changes the next one.

I like the evidence of that process.

Texture isn't decoration.

It's memory made visible.

The finished paintings aren't about perfection. They're about accumulation. They reflect the time spent looking, questioning, revising, and allowing the work to become something I couldn't have predicted when I started.

Scale Changes Everything

Most of my work is created on large canvases because scale changes the relationship between the painting and the person standing in front of it.

Large paintings aren't simply bigger versions of small ones.

They ask something different from the viewer.

They ask you to move.

To step closer.

To step back.

To notice details before taking in the whole.

The experience becomes physical instead of purely visual.

That matters to me.

Material Matters

The materials I use are chosen for possibility rather than predictability.

Acrylic, spray paint, oil stick, pencil, inks, and other mixed media each leave their own character behind. They resist one another. They cooperate. They create edges I couldn't have planned and textures I couldn't invent any other way.

I don't use materials to demonstrate technique.

I use them because they help the painting remain alive.

A Continuing Body of Work

No single painting explains what I'm trying to do.

They speak to one another.

Each new work builds on questions raised by the last one while introducing new ones I haven't answered yet. Together they become a record of an evolving practice rather than isolated objects.

That's why I think of them as a body of work instead of a collection of paintings.

They're connected.

They grow together.

So do I.



Continue Exploring

If you'd like to explore the work in more detail, continue with Contemporary Abstract Paintings, Original Abstract Paintings, Large Abstract Paintings, Large Scale Abstract Art, Large Scale Abstract Paintings, Large Scale Contemporary Art, Large Contemporary Paintings for Modern Interiors, Textured Abstract Art, Mixed Media Abstract Art, Mixed Media Painting Process, Materials Used in My Paintings, and Working on Large Scale Canvases.

Each essay explores a different aspect of the work, from scale and materials to process, texture, and atmosphere, but they all begin with the same commitment to creating paintings that invite people to slow down and look.

You can also return to Essays to explore the complete collection.