I have a reoccurring dream that I’ve had since childhood. As an adult, the same sensations and images haunt me in deep meditation and are the genesis for my paintings.
I came into the world through cesarean birth. My mother and I struggled in labor for hours. The memories of that birth affect me on every level, and thus, the way I view the world. I move from the pain of the birth to the explosion into life, and I am exhausted after each recollection of the experience. In the end, I always choose life, but the difficulty of that birthing process stays with me.
My paintings are an exploration of this memory that I carry in every fiber of my being. As I approach the blank surface of a new painting, I access a forgotten place, a previous life, and the mystery of the time before I existed.
When I paint, I am blending the past and present, coming into form, light, and life. These paintings are an expression of cellular memory—coming together out of the cosmic dust. They are a memory of a place lost that will be regained in my death.
They are about the will to live, breathe, and exist… both now and after death. They express who I am—my beginnings, struggles, and triumphs. Because I earned the right to breathe in such a real and fundamental way, I share the release of coming into the world through my painting.
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