I have always been interested in the many properties of the paint itself. The same color can have a very different impact merely based on thickness and how it is applied. That is just one tiny example of what seems to me like a complex language of paint, color, value, and mark-making.  I've been exploring clouds for a while now; this work specifically focusses on the edges where the cloud meets no cloud.  People have always looked up to the sky in wonder/prayer/meditation - it's like a universal motif that speaks to each of us in some way.  I am making these large paintings from memories, and small sketches done on location, using various orchestrations of that language of paint to allow the viewer to get lost in the painting. The idea is to nudge the viewer into their own thoughts and meditations.

In these paintings I chop my canvas up and allow the paint to flow and drip in an effort to express how time can feel linear and fluid simultaneously.   Sort like deja vu, or that a memory of a place from ten years ago can seem like it still suspended in that place today.

I painted these clouds in a vertical format in attempt to to show how massive the sky is, and how relatively small we are.  Many of these canvases focus on late light hitting the tops of clouds while everything below has become closer to gray.  I want the viewer to look up at that lit area.  On a certain level I think we should all look up more in the real world too.   We might all benefit from looking up and appreciating what an amazing and beautiful planet we get to live on.

The large canvases in the Sky Mediations series are greatly informed by the many sky studies that I do whenever the sky moves me.

Sometimes events on our planet move me to paint, it is only a little bit cathartic

Paintings of the light in the city

The winter light in Baltimore is much different, mostly due to the lack of humidity.  I like getting out and trying to capture it