Encasutic Gallery 4

Carried by the Wind, 20"x15"

Dance of Many, 20"x15"

I Found You My Love, 20"x30"

In the Thick, 15"x20"

Serendipity, 20"x30"

Swept Away, 20"x30"

In the Company of Clouds, 30"x20"

Love is Belonging, 20"x15"


The Longing Trees, 15"x20"  SOLD


Artist's Statement

A little over a year ago, I saw a video of thousands of starlings taking flight over River Shannon in Ireland. The flocks expanded and contracted like sentient plumes of smoke. My mind fell silent as the mass of birds swirled in the sky. It was as if I was viewing a previously undiscovered species. These flocks are aptly and beautifully named a murmuration. Scientists describe the birds' motion as a phase transition, as when metals become magnetized or liquid turns to gas. This makes sense for seemingly lifeless things, but how could this describe a group of birds? That question intrigues me - are the molecules in metal and liquid individual beings as well? Maybe all things are alive, conscious, and acting as one?


Artist's Statement

Making art demands a level of concentration beyond that of anything I've ever experienced. My surroundings disappear, the stereo falls silent, I don't feel hunger, my aching muscles go unheard, and an alarm clock tells me when it's time to stop. When I put down my torches the world comes crashing in; I'm starving, my music is too loud, and my body aches. Before I started using an alarm, I kept going until my body gave out, leaving me unable to do much of anything other than thanking God for heating pads and muscle relaxants. So, why do I do it? That's not an easy question to answer. It leaves me emotionally and physically drained: I can't afford much of anything: I refuse to comprise in other areas of my life, and in comparison, the rest world doesn't make much sense - I do it, not because I love it, but because it gives my higher self a voice, and it sings so sweetly.