About the work

Not pictures to look at. Spaces to enter.

I work with light the way a geologist works with rock. Looking for what pressure leaves behind.

The images begin in the physical world: a reflection, a surface, light moving over water. But I'm not trying to hold the subject still. I follow what happens when the image starts to loosen, when it stops being about recognition and becomes about pressure, color, and space. That is where the work begins to interest me.

I keep working until the image has its own atmosphere. Across the series I return to a few quiet structures: apertures, seams, mirrored axes, fields of grain. They don't point to objects; they behave like openings. The eye keeps re-scaling: microscopic one second, sky-wide the next. What felt distant becomes interior.

Color becoming a place you can enter.

Texture is evidence here: grain, scratches, soft distortions: records of friction and time. Color is temperature, not description: electric blues leaning into shadow, heated reds, golds that flare into white. Something the body registers before the mind names it.

Time runs through it as condition, not subject, but a seam where one state becomes another, the now gathering into substance rather than passing through.

Abstraction, for me, is not a way to hide meaning. It is a way to let meaning move.

I name a work and then let it go. What you find in it is yours.