I didn’t stand out much as a kid. I had no physical talent for sports, no musical talent, no social finesse, nothing but average in everything I did, except art. So I decided to major on what I could do, not what I couldn’t. That’s became a long journey of schooling, practicing, and studying other artists in everything from animation to illustration to impressionism, trying to find something that would satisfy that deep need to connect with my art, not just doing art.
Illustration came fairly natural, but that became an exercise in accomplishing what graphic art and photography can do, so much better. In illustration, my perfectionism refused me the satisfaction of finishing a piece confidently—always demanding one more thing to fix. Same with impressionism, never able to come to the “I’m done” place. In the decorative arena, I freelanced for a publishing company, but still lacked experiencing a passion in my work. After 30 years, I decided to try abstract. I loved it.
Today, I find joy in the freedom of working strokes, splashes, whooshes, imprints, patterns, and most of all rust into my pieces. That’s right. Rust. I discovered that color mixed with “rust” in an abstract fashion has rendered endless possibilities for me. I never tire of it. The process is full of surprises. Each painting cannot be done again, because each piece takes me to a new level of knowledge and understanding to apply in my next encounter with color, rust, and the organic outcome it creates on steel.
I love the “feel’ and “soul” in my art that touches my emotion, and those who collect my works frequently tell me my art makes them happy. It emits emotion for them, activity that evolves as they discover something new in the image they hadn’t seen before in the color and the patterns hidden in the rust. They particularly enjoy the texture that comes out in my art. The steel I paint on makes it feel so solid and stable, providing a quality of strength when you touch it. You can’t touch other fine art, but you can touch mine. My steel canvases are sealed with the same clear coat as the finish on a car. They beg to be touched, and can be without the fear of harming the color or the finish. That’s the beauty of using steel versus linen canvases. I love working with it.
Since I began this chapter of my journey into organic, abstract art, I now experience joy in my work. I’m no longer attempting to keep up with the trends in decorative art that come and go. I get to create a world of colorful, organic images that are enjoyed as much by touch as they are by sight and imagination. It is an experience that requires “up close and personal.”