I am transfixed by the pregnant moment, the slice of a moment bursting with potency. In now. If a moment were a pie, the image I am captivated by is a slice of the pie so narrow that it becomes a line. The world is in eternal flux and the images that tug at me are transient, rife with what happened before and what may come after, but the past or the future is not so important. The moment is now. The moment paused, for a moment. Painting allows me to dwell and dream on the ephemeral ripeness of a fraction of time.
There is time between time, gaps within notes, places between places. A gap between what is said and how it is understood, a space in-between people, a misstep, stutter and awkwardness, but also promise and potential. This draws me back time and again to the period of adolescence, a time of intensity and confusion, but also of lucid moments, of happenings and insights so clear they can be framed. It is a time we probe the grand themes of life with the lingering innocence and incisive wisdom of a child, to form us for adulthood looming at the end of the passage.
Time and again I return to the setting of the forest, a place of possibilities, a place of passing through. This is how I feel, like a passenger passing through. And I only have tiny truths of
the momentary. I would only like to share these small gems that I discover along the way.
I am half-awake and half-dreaming, and painting allows me to be in this state.