My encaustic paintings evolve very slowly, and are the result of physical negotiations. I spend as much time building up layers of wax and pigment as I do scraping them away. In some cases, I build an entire landscape only to excavate it, with just traces of the original composition remaining in the final piece. Generally the encaustic paintings are a response to the love of my materials, the allure of my process, the sheer physicality of painting, and the enticement of not really knowing the final result.
For many years I painted horizon lines. Distance, vastness, and clean sight lines were important to me. Often, now I find myself painting lines of vision that are compromised or obscured, even walled completely.
Encaustic is a highly sensitive and temperamental medium, and I appreciate how it can record physical textures as well as retain its fluidity. Several of the paintings, for example, contain references to walls and other concrete or wooden surfaces while others speak about bodies of water, depth, and the sense of being submerged.
Over the past five years my themes have usually been composed of memories or systems of existence ..... really they seem to be interior landscape more than anything else. They contain maps and illustrations of emotional, spiritual and physical travels that I’ve observed in others or quests and journeys I have been on myself.
I would prefer my work to inspire the viewers own memories and thoughts rather than giving them all of mine.