I make paintings and drawings that begin without a fixed plan. I start with a loose sense of an image and work it over time, adjusting, covering, and returning until something holds. The process is slow and often uncertain. A painting might shift many times before it settles into its final form. Certain images come back again and again: a figure lying down, an animal in a field, a space that feels both open and enclosed. I don’t treat these as symbols with fixed meanings. They change depending on how they’re painted, what surrounds them, and how they relate to other works. In that way, the paintings are connected. They feel like variations within the same world rather than separate ideas. I’m interested in the moment when an image becomes believable, not in a literal sense, but in the feeling that it has weight and presence. Sometimes that comes through structure, sometimes through atmosphere. I often move back and forth between the two, building something solid and then softening it again. There is usually a quietness in the work. The figures are still, the animals watch or wait, and the space around them is active in a subtle way. I think of these as moments rather than stories. They don’t explain themselves, but they hold a kind of attention. At its core, the work comes out of staying with an image long enough for it to become clear, without forcing it to resolve too quickly.

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