in Krokylio Greece.
I simply go. I think about an issue: a joy, a hurt, a wish. What color is it and how does it move? How can I tell the story? Then I just go. A palette knife, a brush, a blob, a streak, - I paint every day. I tear paper pages in my sleep. I wake thinking about children at the border or line dancing or missing my baby sister. Birds are singing. It's cold now. I want to express my feelings - not a literal thought - and when working on a piece I have little awareness of where it began.
“The best art is political and you ought to be able to make it unquestionably political and irrevocably beautiful at the same time.” Toni Morrison.
The last three years of craziness, uncertainty and confusion gave rise to this work, layering bits and pieces of despair and hope and my colorful prayers for amity. Bricque