Through my early twenties, music was my primary creative outlet. Today, I often think about my work in musical terms, considering how paintings can function as songs and thinking about the process of viewing painting unfolding over time. Melody, harmony, dissonance, tempo, and rhythm are just as present as traditional modes of illusionism.

My images are constructed with thin veils of paint made from silica and pigment painted on linen. They are made over long periods of time and through successive translucent layers, which allows the final picture to have a freshness and an internal lightness. They take notes from slow movements and intimate spaces—the way a curtain beside an open window advances and recedes into the room or the way someone’s shirt moves as they breathe. Each painting is embedded with paradox. I allow the imperfections of my hand to exist within the geometric elements that contain them. I often begin on the grid, but at some point, spontaneity, revolt, defiance, and humor become the only way forward.