I am a maker. Painting is seeing the world change before your eyes and knowing that it is you making those changes. That kind of power is rewarding. I like that you can tell how old my paintings are by their weight. How much is too much? Painting can be your best friend or your nemesis, your goal or your failure, but either way it makes you more aware of yourself and the world around you. My studio is a large scale painting installation. I have a really good sense of composition; I understand art on that basic level. Sometimes I want people to see everything and other times I want them to see nothing. The more you know about your material, the more you can understand how it interacts with others. Painting is so romantic. I like to touch my paintings, to feel their skin. Learning through labour. I accept the consequences of what I’m making. Paint covers and suffocates, it slicks over surfaces like a film of colour. It emphasizes textures and creates a uniformed understanding. Why am I so obsessed with paint? I would rather have paint than money. Experimentation is about acknowledging the possibilities. Minimal excess. I was looking at surface and texture, what it was about meant nothing to me. Eye popping pink. I walk aimlessly thinking about ideas. I like to work with paint when it is dry. The interaction is more aggressive; I have to use force as the paint is more durable. Sometimes I spend ages making or finding the right colour and other times I just use whatever I grab. If everyone could paint, then painting wouldn’t be as cool. I want to have the freedom to completely lose it and be immersed in the seduction of the material. I have always been attracted to material in bulk. No matter how much you give or take, there is residue on both sides. I’m inspired by words. I love definitions and synonyms. We live in an excess of colour. So many things we use everyday have been painted. Baby blue on crack. Paint is plastic, its stretchy and peelable. It was just a way for me to be able to use excessive amounts of paint. There is something so satisfying about taking mundane materials and making them look amazing. I’m interested in how things happen naturally. I gave up using tables, as there was paint everywhere anyway. By the time I had finished I was puffing and sweating and exhausted. I had scrubbed, punched, lashed out, screamed and crawled in the excess of paint. Sometimes I think about making paintings and not using any paint. There is sadness in knowing that people will never truly understand the struggle and sweat gone into what I have made. I have a discordant sense of colour. I love disgusting colours. I love the smell of a freshly painted room. If your not totally in love with paint, if you cant take off your clothes and swim in it, if you can’t use your hands instead of a paint brush, if you dread paint on everything you own, then your not a painter. The engine room is where the fight begins, a time for exertion, for struggle and for victory.
