There are only two kinds of artists—revolutionaries and plagiarists.

                                                                                 – Paul Gauguin


 In my studio process, I discover patterns in the splendor of liquid paint as it seeps from possibility to presence.   Beginning with a splash of numinous non-sense arrested by a moment of awe, I am seduced into the quest for one more glimpse of magic.


I have spent glorious summers camping and rock climbing in the Sierra.  Like a climber on a vertical ascent, my paintings dance that edge of will and surrender.


My work reveals my reverence for the heat of sacred sensuality.  I paint from that place where spirit and sex are one.  The paintings are steeped in a primal feminine sensibility of passionate receptivity, of ecstatic union, of creation as birth.  On the tantric tree of life, sex is the root and spirit is the flower.


I believe that form follows consciousness.  All that is visible appears through a refraction of the invisible, like the colors of a rainbow appearing from white light. Serving as a potential prism for this spectacle, the creative intelligence of the Universe is, I believe, at least as highly-structured and multifaceted as a crystal, as reflectively illusory and as transparently true. My painting process mirrors my respect for the direct wisdom of the lifeforce itself.  I work, not with visualizing an image, but with an awareness of the invisible qualities that I wish to see –passion, brilliance, serenity, expansion.  I hold these qualities in consciousness while I catch them appearing in form.  


I am fascinated by the idea that, in the whole universe, light is the only substance moving at a constant velocity.  This says to me that light, relative to itself, is absolutely still. In meditation, as one comes into synchrony with that perfect stillness, the eyes appear to glow. I paint for that moment of radiance when a painting glows in synchrony with the stillness of its own light.  Hopefully, the flow stops there.


Sometimes, as I witness the spectacle of sunlight on leaves in the wind, I know that just this is enough.  The existence of nature inspires me to explore the nature of existence: of the cosmos, the self, and the paint.