The Far Side of Memory

Scraps of memory come and go. Ideas come slantwise, one thought enlarges another thought, appearing random, unrelated, until
suddenly and stunningly they don’t. Links are made, and the subject of the painting begins to reveal itself to me. Words are inadequate in this space, constantly dissolving out of reach. It is the visual, tactile act of painting that connects me then to those feelings which precede or

sidestep language.
Somehow shoes have become a trope I constantly return to. They seem to oscillate as signifiers, but never quite settle into
one single meaning.

Freud referred to the unconscious as opportunist, and it is in this sense that painting can be understood as a kind of watching and waiting. It is sometimes during the still and concentrated observation of ordinary objects that partial memories and vague feeling begin to surface, and the lifelessness of these inanimate subjects becomes endowed with enough life to be felt.
It is this intermingling of the everyday and the unknown that my paintings will suggest.