Your last living memory, oil on mylar, 4.5 X 6.5”
I am fascinated with old family photographs and the distortion of memory. I move through the fluidity of time as my fingers glide over piles of photographs. My studio is littered with evidence of loved ones and events past. I shuffle these memories, picking and choosing who to talk to. Conversations direct the paintings, one to the next.
Although my work starts from a personal perspective, I hope by closely examining thoughts on family, erosion of memory, the shape of space a person leaves behind, and even the imagination of childhood, that I am creating something universal. Who has not experienced loss, deterioration of time and clung to photographs as artifacts or relics? Who has not dangled their legs over water and imagined the creatures lurking below the surface?
Through the process of painting, I build up surfaces only to sand them down again. The images erode and shift as the process is repeated, building texture and history. Through the use of color and oil paint, I am able to achieve an experience with the image that the photograph was unable to capture. I create new memories to continue the conversation with the past.
Although my work starts from a personal perspective, I hope by closely examining thoughts on family, erosion of memory, the shape of space a person leaves behind, and even the imagination of childhood, that I am creating something universal. Who has not experienced loss, deterioration of time and clung to photographs as artifacts or relics? Who has not dangled their legs over water and imagined the creatures lurking below the surface?
Through the process of painting, I build up surfaces only to sand them down again. The images erode and shift as the process is repeated, building texture and history. Through the use of color and oil paint, I am able to achieve an experience with the image that the photograph was unable to capture. I create new memories to continue the conversation with the past.