Opening a Present I Never Knew Existed

Over the years I have come to feel that creativity arises from a place I cannot adequately explain. Whether it belongs to the subconscious, to the mysteries of the universe, or to something for which we have no language, I don't know. What I do know is that the quieter my own intentions become, the more honestly the work seems to emerge.

If my work has a purpose, it is not to provide answers or hidden messages. It is to create a quiet space where the artist can disappear, the viewer can meet the work on their own terms, and perhaps, for a moment, both can encounter something larger than either of them.

I have never wanted my paintings to tell viewers what to think or what to feel. Discovery is too personal for that. The greatest gift painting has given me is the experience of uncovering something I never knew existed. If my work has any purpose beyond the joy of creating it, I hope it offers others that same opportunity—to slow down, look without expectation, and discover something that no explanation could ever provide.

Painting for me is like opening a present that I never knew existed.