After making work that utilized a vocabulary of mass media imagery combined with geometric and painterly elements, I felt the urge to work purely with paint again. It’s exciting, sensual, and intellectually challenging to load a brush with paint and move it across a canvas with the intention of making a completed work—wherever that may lead. I wanted to get back into the paint: to draw, brush, pour, and throw it into something that felt open and expansive.

I remembered reading of an archeologist who said that when he discovered a shard of an ancient pot, its curve suggested not only the complete piece of pottery but the civilization that produced it. I had this image in my head of a kind of dynamic continuum, a combination of pure geometric form and gestural marks that would extend beyond the frame of the canvas and reference the immense energy and mystery of the larger universe, seen and mostly unseen. This image and the impulse that accompanied it felt simultaneously grandiose and essential. I am acutely, even humorously, aware of the insignificance of the lone artist in her studio, a point of consciousness, flailing away at a canvas, trying to reference the cosmos when her species can't even acknowledge its own impact on the planet it inhabits. It seems our narrow zone of comfort applies not only to climate but to necessary ignorance, as well. Perhaps that was the source of my impulse to begin with. As an artist, all I can do is invite the viewer into my environment to be part of my conversation, and hope, in the whirrings of his own imagination, he will make some meaningful connection.