Abstraction happens for me when I approach the panel on the wall with a brush…not before. I don’t think about whether or not the painting is abstract. It has to do with my reaction to the environment, perhaps physical, social, internal. I can be painting on a panel in the woods and be struck by the sensation of the rustling leaves on the trees while turning dark earth colors. This to me does not call for work of detailed likeness, but rather that of movement with my long-haired brushes and, yes, my hands. Same goes for the nude or clothed model. Without an object in front of me I paint what’s going on inside of me. It all comes from my gut. There is a wide range when one looks at my work. It all comes from my gut. It is a big physical act. My arms swing with the brushes. My hands scrape into the pigment and fly onto the canvas. Sometimes I trip over myself. I end up it seems, with half of the painting on my face and my clothes. That’s when it’s over. A brilliant mess.
