When I was about four years old my dad owned a 1949 Chevrolet sedan. I thought the car was as sleek and beautiful as a rocket ship. It stood out against many of the other cars in our little West Texas town, which were black Model As, even Model Ts. I asked my dad why they looked the way they did and he said “They’re old.”
So in my child’s mind I thought that cars of brilliant candy-colored red, green and blue grew old and turned flat black, their sleek lines sprouting fenders and detached headlights like ear hair. Their curved windshields no longer at a rakish streamlined angle but rectangular and vertical as fence posts. Their gleaming chrome hubcaps now bristling with spokes like wagon wheels.
I had made my first leap of the imagination.
I was once told that doing art is the great journey. With no roadmaps. No direction. Sometimes no known destination. And the only guidance you may be blessed with is intuition. Intuition fueled by imagination.
Although my work is representational and derived from nature, I leave it open to interpretation. Two of my influences are the American painter George Inness for his later work and its minimal detail, lighting and soft brushwork and German painter Gerhard Richter for his unorthodox choice of subject matter and superb technical ability.
I tend to focus on the graphic quality of a landscape with an emphasis on light. Light fascinates me. I love to manipulate it to express a mood, a time of day, even a season of the year. As for my cloudscapes they give me the opportunity to border on the abstract.
My goal is to make something that resonates visually and emotionally, not only for me but for the viewer as well.