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Beneath the surface of my art lies a skirmish.
A battle between order, and exuberant chaos; between good manners, and the impetuous naughtiness of our/my own subconscious.
I rarely plan my work with any detail. Rather, I attack the painting surface quickly, often wildly, and then calmly work hard to collect the jarring elements into one aesthetic package. I like things to be pretty in the end, but never too perfect. It’s the same with gorgeous, handmade oriental rugs and kelims. Their beauty is in the imperfection, the miscalculations and discolorations. Only machine made rugs are perfect.
Photography captures a split second. Painting and drawing are more like good cinema, evolving the plot over time. I like artwork that reveals little windows in time, back to earlier layers and the artist evolving intentions. Mistakes are charming.
