I recently experienced an odd phenomenon in that just as soon as I finished a painting I got sick. It’s made me ponder the vulnerability of the process and I suppose this might be a lesson not to paint things one doesn’t understand, which is challenging as the work I’m most proud of is that which I’m not sure I actually created. Sometimes it comes from a subconscious place whereby if I try too hard things become murky or clumsy.
The most important aspect is always light, that liminal quality. I aim to catch feelings rather than the more obvious.
I believe that what we see is not the same. What I see is imbued with my experience of it, my feelings toward it. Objects become transmutable. I think this is why I started painting angels.