Stillness and Occurrence

I was looking at water a few years ago and tried to imagine the building of color in the water as it became deeper. That's a simple idea. But to make it happen in the studio I had to tear down every concept that I had about how a painting was constructed: no easel (work flat on a table); no oil paint (only thin acrylic medium and a hint of color) no palette (only cups and vats and jars of mixed color). And a mask to protect my lungs from the acrylic vapors. This yearning for luminosity and depth got me up early every day searching for the proper way to mix and layer. By the end of the second year when I went to the Ragdale Foundation, I could do it.

As the thin transparent layers slowly build they become saturated with hue, glazed and luminous and deep. I have given up hope of putting a number on them-if I work for months and put on two or three layers a day-well, that makes many layers. After a few months, they are sanded down and the interior becomes visible. Then the building begins all over again.
The images carry light. They have spots and glimmer within them. One piece called "Capsule" looks like it has been drenched and stained with raspberries. Another called "Cells" looks like the slice of a plant under a microscope as it is growing. Some are bubbly and lively on their surfaces, all the history showing through. Others have pearls. Some have tiny puddles and dots. This was the beginning of a lengthy series.

Stillness and Occurrence: "Space and that which is continuously born out of space and returns into space"
-Pema Chodron