I find my painting best expressed with languid curves, the tension of push and pull, and juicy color both sweet and deep. Description and function are one-and-the-same in my pictures: a thick pink line becomes a purple dog or a warm orange girl while it moves the eye through the picture. The dark mass of a monster becomes a bird, then a road, then a gothic sculpture. Positive light shifts to negative light when the imagery or composition desires it. Cool purples heat to hot oranges and virginal yellows as the picture moves together.

The thickness and tension of line are visual expression of speed, desire, coiled energy, and force. When both color and line work together the machine of the painting is a highly readable graphic image with clarity and surprise. Each image designs the next. A dog can become a devil with a little twist of color or line. A girl choking her pet might have her weight shifted and suddenly find her leg ends in the head of monster. I can trace this imagery back to my childhood looking at 18th century woodblock prints of Salem witches, where among them stood the Devil, his clawed feet becoming the little pebbles of the road. The rest is from my dreams.