I am writing a series of blog posts in which I will answer questions about my work from friends. If you have a question, connect with me on Instagram or Facebook and ask!
The first part of this series comes from a question by Mark Sullivan, owner of the Cycle Path bike shop in Cornelius, NC. He asks: “Where do your inspirations come from?”
Riding my bike – whether surrounded by fields, forest, or mountains – inspires me. The feelings associated with outdoor activities inspire me: warm sunlight on my face, cold wind on my cheeks, the way light changes when you are hiking in the woods and step into a clearing, the elation after reaching a mountain summit, the feeling of flying when you are cycling fast on the road, the sense of oneness when you are quickly weaving through trees on a narrow trail, and so on. I am inspired by the poetry of nature: color and light in the landscape, seasons, and the passing of time. In my abstract paintings, I am translating these fleeting moments onto the canvas. Rather than painting a landscape that looks like a photograph, I am interested in evoking the feelings associated with being outside or conjuring memories of outdoor experiences. My work is both inspired by the outdoors and also a reminder to go outside.
In 2016, I’ve been making one small watercolor or drawing per day. The watercolors are succinct ways to explore composition, shape, and color. On the left side of this image are 4 of these watercolors, and on the right is an oil painting. While I was working on the oil painting, it went through a progression of shapes and color, and the little watercolors I made during that time helped me make sense of what to do with the larger oil painting. While the watercolors are square and the oil painting is rectangular – the aspect ratio is different – the watercolors still helped me visualize the composition I was working on in a concise way. This is similar to taking a photo of a painting to simulate stepping away from it, getting the distance needed to see the overall image more clearly. Making a small version of the painting has the added advantage of re-creating the composition yourself, and therefore spending more time processing the way shapes and colors relate on the picture plane. I learned to do this – to make smaller versions of a larger painting to help me figure out what to do with it – from my Honors advisor at College of William & Mary, Professor Kreydatus. When I struggled with a painting, he recommended I draw it. It’s something I’ve done ever since. Thank you