I’ve become a firm believer in the idea that I should “paint what I know”. My interests are broad: my neighborhood, its houses, trees, roads, walks, yards and the river. I’m interested in the world as seen from my car window in the Rio Rancho suburbs and on the highway between Albuquerque and Santa Fe, the pavement, cars, trucks, highway signs, power lines, the Sandia and the Sangre de Cristos set against a sky that is always immense. I define my work as landscapes or neighborhood-scapes, but always as sky-scapes.
With rare exception, my work is un-peopled, their imprint is everywhere and clear, but they, for the moment are absent. Their homes and yards, their candidate signs, festive decorations and yard art all tell their story. The story of a human collective on the land is told in highways, overpasses, scars and cuts, transmission stations, solar arrays and wind turbines. The battle between humans and their edifices and nature and natural forces is exemplified in cracked plaster, peeling paint, broken pavement and scavenged refuse containers.
My wife and I moved from our downtown loft to the valley in the summer of COVID, with us came hundreds of canvases. It was important for me to re-purpose them, but I wanted to do it in a way that didn’t hide, but rather featured what came before in the form of texture. Thus, daubs and licks of paint from previous compositions show up as texture, over which are painted new images.