By layering geometric planes of vivid color, I render scenes inspired by architecture and the unreliability of memory. As the paintings develop, structures begin to assemble into familiar forms suggesting domestic dwellings or industrial buildings. Planes of color crop up to create floors, wall-like surfaces, eaves and overhangs. However, these architectural notions are never allowed to remain whole. They fracture, split apart, and fall away to reveal other chambers or the outside world. I am fascinated by these liminal spaces as a metaphor for the fluidness of memory.
As the space in my recent paintings shifts from expansive exteriors to quiet but compressed interiors, I think of a very old and simple architectural element, the clerestory window. It allows in the exterior world while preserving the privacy and integrity of the interior space. The clerestory is a go-between, a split level full of light and air that filters the nature and condition of the world outside into the interior.