One of my earliest memories of my childhood includes getting into trouble for coming late to a meal because I was involved in making a fantastic sculpture in my sandbox. I told my mother, “I didn’t hear you until the fourth time you called.” Being creative was a way of life for me even then.
Except for a few classes at Kwantlen College, I have been mostly self taught. When painting, I started with oils, switched to acrylics and learned to my dismay, that there are rules to follow when mixing the two mediums. Since I could never color inside the lines, I enjoy painting on unusual supports; canvas, glass, mirrors, denim, drapery fabric – I joke that I will paint on anything that stands still.
As a viewer, I particularly enjoy all forms of sculpture. It has a way of stimulating creativity for me in a way that no other medium does.
Often the world seems to be a very chaotic place to be yet when I stop to notice. I realize there is a profound and majestic sense of order to it all. My most recent series of paintings has begun an exploration that aims at expressing that wondrous and infinite dimension.
Over time, I have come to understand that visual art “speaks” to us in ways we may not be aware of. My sense is that we can convey very complex emotions and thoughts in ways that might be more effective even than our usual language. My dream, my focus, the constant direction of all I do in art is to explore this concept much further.
Like an addiction that I couldn’t escape, I have been producing art in one form or another for most of my life. In the last ten years or so, I have narrowed the fields and am now choosing to work mostly in painting on various supports and occasionally indulging in my love for soapstone sculpture.
Working in my studio brings me joy, a sense of peace and inevitably helps to clarify the questions life brings me.