When I close my eyes and am quiet, I do not see images of things, but rather shapes and colors. These experiences are just flashes—-sudden images that are immediately gone—but they leave me with their imprint, and I work my way back to them through the act of painting.

I use visual language to evoke an interior, sensate space, and abstraction seems to be the most direct means to do so. The language of abstraction carries its own reality, holding a meaning no less powerful than words. A successful abstract painting is what it is what it is what it is. It invites you to connect with the part of your being that is not served by speech, and nourishes you there.

My painting has always been informed by two sources: the natural world and the art of various spiritual traditions. I have looked deeply at pre-Renaissance western painting (Spanish manuscripts, Sienese painting, Romanesque and Byzantine frescoes), as well as Indian miniatures, Tantric images, and Native American art. All of these traditions have relied either wholly or partially on abstraction to express their beliefs about the relationship of humans to the cosmos. The commonality of their use of space and shapes holds truth for me and gives me a ground for my own work. I place myself as in the tradition of artists who have tried to give visible form to that which is not visible. I make images which I hope evoke a sense of both power and enigma, beauty and unease.