thinking today about my father; how, being a scientist himself, he raised me to approach life with an analytical mind, for better or worse. when i called him from my college dorm room late one night to announce my switch from an animal science major to fine art, he spoke straight from his world: “yes,… read more
Writing about a painting is like singing about a poem. Or something like that.
I have nothing against words; I just don’t see the point in writing about something that I’ve painted. Isn’t the act of painting an attempt to communicate in a manner that’s outside the realm of words? Why compromise that experience? If I feel the need to explain a painting—even if it’s just to myself—then I… read more