Typically, I start with a void because that comes from a place of wonder and I want to explore that. When there’s a void and I’m committed to exploring it, intuition becomes fluid. This is how I paint my white lines on black canvases: with intuition as my guidance. Sometimes I have an outline that I follow but it’s not a boundary. I often veer into nonlinear movements because they move out of stagnancy. That’s how you create a rhythm and a circulation.
I like creating on a black canvas, because nonlinear line patterns disrupt the void while also constructing the whole of the piece—and it’s continual, intentional, it weaves a narrative together that I have in my mind that remains subjective to the viewer. When people interact with my art, I hope it sparks something sensory for them. Oftentimes, people tell me that they see something moving in my work, or they see an image that is unique to their experience. That’s pareidolia: the mind perceiving familiarity in a realm where it does not exist. However, something is created out of this abstraction that’s personal to them. This interaction with my artwork promotes an experience that no longer conveys just a mental state of thought but a physical embodiment of perception.
