My process usually begins with looking—at a landscape, a photograph, a sketch, a color, or an idea that catches my attention.
From there, I make studies and experiments. I simplify, rearrange, change color, and try different ways of seeing the same thing. Sometimes a small study becomes a painting; sometimes it leads somewhere completely unexpected.
I’m less interested in reproducing what I see than in finding what is essential about it.
My work has been shaped by artists who approach representation, color, structure, and process in distinctive ways. I’m particularly drawn to the landscapes of David Hockney and Wolf Kahn, the simplified forms and compositions of Félix Vallotton and Paul Sérusier, and the experimentation and mark-making of Chuck Close. Seattle artist Kurt Solmssen has also been an important local influence.
A painting may begin with something small: a quick sketch, a color study, or a few shapes on a page.
I use these early studies to discover composition, color, and relationships. As the work develops, things change. A landscape may become more simplified, colors may shift, and details may disappear.
The painting isn't always heading toward a predetermined image. Often, the process itself determines where it goes.
I like giving a painting room to change as I work. I make different versions, change colors, try new compositions, and follow ideas that may or may not lead anywhere. Some experiments become paintings; others simply open the door to the next one.
I also make quick studies outdoors and from observation. These are small paintings made quickly and spontaneously, with the goal of responding to what is actually in front of me.
They aren't necessarily finished works. They're a way of paying attention—to color, shape, atmosphere, and the particular qualities of a place.
Sometimes the physical act of painting becomes part of the work.
Scraping, layering, covering, and revealing leave traces of what came before. Rather than hiding those decisions, I sometimes let them remain visible.
The resulting paintings are less about representing a particular subject and more about the experience of making them.
Some ideas begin with observation, others with a color, shape, or simple desire to experiment.
I don't always know where a painting will end up. Layers, marks, revisions, and traces of what came before sometimes remain visible, becoming part of the finished work.