Unsettled Surfaces

Art should move you to think differently, so I’m messing with you. I know exactly what I’m doing to your brain. I’m picking a fight. Your logical side is making sense and is preparing to declare its point of view. Things look easy. Your eyes tell you that there are geometric shapes painted there. Clearly defined sections are marked off—some contain squiggly lines, and some hold flat colors.

Things don’t add up, though. Your perception keeps shifting, refuting what is actually there—flat paint on canvases. Those simple geometries may not be so clearly defined after all. They break apart and reform, take on new configurations by combining with neighboring shapes. The longer you look, the more shapes appear to fold, tilting forward one moment and dropping back the next. Even the squiggly lines shift. At a distance, they look drawn freely on black backgrounds, but up close, they become highly considered knockouts, threading bright backgrounds through and pushing the blackness behind.

My paintings don’t settle into single compositions like they should. They don’t make sense. I want that turmoil. I want your brain to argue about what it is seeing. I want you to consider the implications.

Seeing is believing. So, if you’re looking to understand, consider this: Much of what you believe to be true comes from your eyes whispering lies to your brain.