Hare’s pelt sky. Even now a clear wing writes. Paul Celan.
Art is the experience in the space between the viewer and the artwork, whether or not that quickening sense of wordless communication can be described. In the absence of exact words, Celan's bird wing inscribing the sky embodies this inarticulate poetic moment.
The abstract paintings in my current practice are a visual analogy for non-verbal thought without precise descriptive or legible form - both in their visual content and the process of making. The intersection of external landscape with my interior landscape generates their visual language.
Illegible script forms, and the disruptions to seeing of screens, veils, and bleaching light and deep shade come in and out of sharp focus, in tandem with perception. Their forms and marks reveal a sub-verbal interplay of visual cues and improvisations, erasures and additions that produce a resolved visual form.
Non-literal and abstract work across a range of media attest to my long-standing interest in the insufficiency of words for some communication. What-cannot-be-said may mean that words cannot be found, or that there is no-one to hear, or that words are held back because of their likely or imagined effect if spoken. And some categories of experience - love, beauty, loss, grief, the poetic moment, the pre-verbal, the traumatic - defy precise articulation while inviting repeated attempts.