Statement for painting:

Painting as a byproduct of a life, leavings, meanings, building blocks for awareness. Painting as an undoing, an unraveling, untying an unfishing.
Painting is a harvest or a regurgitation of a harvest.
Painting as unpainting, uncreating, not painting. Creating an image by destroying an image. Non intention.
Painting as a gobbler of time, a killer of the clock, a smasher of youth.
Painting to reminded me not to think of it, not to act on it, not to covet it, not to own it.
Painting to make me giggle when alone, to make me hate painting, to make me need painting, to make me avoid painting to make me paint too much.
Painting as technology, so amazing, faster than photoshop, slower than a mamothsickle. Painting as artificial intelligence or as real stupidity. Painting when I should be cleaning, eating, gardening, sleeping. Painting never interrupting cooking. Cooking is painting but painting is not cooking. I have painted in my sleep, on a bus, on a plane, in several countries, in altered states, but I have never painted underwater. One day I will paint underwater, oils, in an ocean. Painting in space would be gravityless. 

Sketchbooks have always interested me. Most of the time they interest me more than the art people produce. I have noticed that there is something in the sketchbook that is more alive than in what most artists feel comfortable showing. I have been trying to, over the years, create an atmosphere with my painting panels of a sketchbook that has been torn apart and scattered all over the studio… exploded. Studies get painted over and scraped off and erased. In my early sketchbooks I would go back and forth through the pages adding something to a old drawing, gluing things in, painting over, taking notes, phone numbers, food, found objects glued to swelling pages. Finished "artwork" seemed to be a safer tamer more civilized place. Sketchbooks were always places for breaking the rules and putting down things I might not want people to see because it made me feel uncomfortable because it did not fit into what I thought a finished piece should be. I rarely use sketchbooks because I have combined the energy of my sketchbooks with the energy of my painting. Sometimes a painting gets cut up, in half, scraped down, torched, weathered, stepped on, cut, coated with wax or chopped into tiny little paintings. It is all part of trying to break my patterns and learn about the materials and tell stories and entertain myself and go deep into the patterns that lie just behind my eyelids and tap into the crazy epic dreamer that I am. Continuity comes and goes. Style is elusive. Paint is a gift that is a non linear narrative, and I do not know what page I am on.