Having lived in San Francisco most of my adult life, I have had a lot of time to observe and connect with my surroundings in an intimate way. Like any long-term relationship, with all of its different faces, many moods and subtle changes over time, a relationship to place cannot be achieved by merely visiting once and awhile. I think of my work as an ongoing dialogue I have with the everyday environment. As I roam the streets of the city or while driving in my car, I feel as an explorer, searching for those moments when I get a visceral response to what I see. Observations of same scenery repeatedly over time, the play of light in different atmospheric conditions, eventually render the ordinary, extraordinary.
Though these paintings are of San Francisco, the memories I have of growing up in New York inform my work: recollections of soft light and timeworn iconic forms that make up the skeletal bones of the city, those things that are essential to transport, connect, supply or shelter us. Concrete, steel and wood, houses, roads, trucks and bridges, traffic lights and signs are forms intrinsic to our lives, while at the same time merely backdrop elements of our quotidian urban existence. But their solidity and endurance, and the visual effects of time wearing on those structures, resonate for me: the odd patina that results from years and weather, the cracks, graffiti stains and rust, rendering these objects visually rich unto themselves. I find myself intensely curious how these things interact with the atmosphere around them. It is a magical alchemy between what is earthbound and what is not, what is transient and what is solid, and between those two is the rich matrix of shadows that are born from that mix.