One Cannot Feel a Colour:
The painting of is a metonym for the passing of time and the becoming of a history.
Ihave chosen for a subject, among things, a seashell, a jeep, a plant, a wheel etc. Some of these objects mean something to me while others are selected randomly. I include a title, for example, "Leanchoilia", to me alludes to the sound of "melancholia", an omomatopoeic reference to a fossilised remnant. "Hubris" is the word paired with a sport utility vehicle and "Syntagma" describes a wheel that holds sentimental significance for me.
These renderings are embedded in granules of paint. My choice of colour is practically arbitrary. Applied with little concern for optical effects, I "bury" the object with layers upon layers of paint as one would with anonymous grains of sand.
Painting is a method of contemplative research. The artwork that occurs helps me to determine the appropriate questions to ask when probing the origin and outcome of my physicality.
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