Amidst all the chaos of our rapidly changing world I find myself looking to the sky for understanding. I begin my paintings by writing whatever word comes to me- I write the word hundreds of times throughout the canvas, and then slowly paint the clouds over the word. My most recent body of work examines the cloud as a moral deity, appearing at times obscure, foreboding, or warm and welcoming.
This body of work plays against the representational and abstract qualities of the world around us. At what point does our reality stop being easily identifiable?