I begin each painting intuitively with little expectation of the end result, beyond the color palette and, more recently, the overall composition as marked out with masking tape. As I apply thick layers of paint, patterns and textures begin to emerge from repetitive brushstrokes and interactions between colors across the canvas. These patterns are refined, and details are added in subsequent layers to arrive at the finished work. or me, the repetition of brushstrokes evokes the repetition of motion, like practicing a waltz, or watching a leaf swirl around and around in the wind. Once in a while, I'll finish a painting and find it suddenly reminds me of the fragmented images and emotions of an almost-forgotten dream.
My current process requires masking and unmasking of different portions of the painting to juxtapose straight tape lines and shapes against fields of frenetic, fluid, swirling brushstrokes. This process of obscuring and revealing portions of the painting with each layer of paint seems to allow for many more unexpected synchronicities to appear in my work, which I enjoy almost as much as the process of methodically applying and peeling off layers and layers of blue tape.