The work of any artist, whether they think of themselves as an artist or not, is the work of marshaling available resources, experience, and attention toward the task at hand. It is directional in the sense that it moves from one state (a blank canvas, a block of stone, an eight and a half by eleven inch sheet of paper) and becomes something else through devoted attention. Each work can only become what is possible in the current interplay of resources, experience, and attention. What is made today becomes, inherently, part of what the next day’s work brings about. You can’t jump ahead twenty steps, but by taking each step new possibilities emerge that could not have been imagined.

This is how I think of the works I create. Every day brings another layer of mastery or understanding of materials, or forms and those layers accumulate and prompt other possibilities that could be found no other way.

The label Lyrical Abstraction contains a great deal that I doubt the artists who are gathered under its umbrella would all sign up for, but at its core Lyrical Abstraction is personal, engaged with material and mediums as much as emotion and a type of romanticism that eschews the machine, the cynical, the hopeless, the ironic. It is warmer and more fluid in its responses to the circumstances it is born out of.

I don’t plan much, but arrive and let the materials show me what can be done that day, and so I find my way to what is adjacent, emergent, possible.