St. Claude Arts District

How can it be expressed, this moment! The erotic glance of a lover, the sadness of loss. Hands say so much, the way a person holds a cigarette; smoke curling into the blackness. At this moment she's so beautiful, but what lies in the shadows? Why does his arm reach into the void? Are hands as expressive as the eyes? I don't know, but I want to explore the idea. Hidden or in the foreground, in the shadows, or staring at you with a million possibilities. Inviting, expressing grief, remorse, or just plain self absorption. The human face and hands are so fascinating to me, compelling and irresistible.

Painting is much like these things to me. I paint from photographs. I like to interpret the moment captured in the seconds with a camera and then... after sharing this intensity of communication with another. The solitary confinement of the studio, just the painting and the artist. Can I capture the emotion, the intimacy of that moment, just what it is that makes that person so intriguing. I will try. Oils seem to offer the most flexibility. They seem the most malleable to my abilities. Oils are sensual in a way that most mediums are not, the scent of linseed oil, turpentine and the various glazes. Say so much to us, our eyes, nose, touching. Yes, the touch of the paint on the skin. It can be so reminiscent of the organic humanity of the person being painted.