Artist Statement for Paintings Below

Every fall, the days get shorter, the temperatures get cooler, and I wonder if I have stocked up enough sunlight to make it through yet another winter. And then it happens. The trees burst into reds, oranges, and yellows, mirroring the quickly dying summer heat. This transformation, like so much of nature, feels magical. In fact, it feels divine.

In attempting to preserve these ephemeral colors, their fleeting voices have taught me about the faith it takes to bloom every spring, knowing that they will die in the fall. They have taught me that sometimes it’s okay to be loud and let the world know you’re there. They have taught me that the landscape becomes even more amazing when it is composed of a variety of colors and shapes. They have reminded me that the fact that we—they and I—are not here, now, by accident.

I painted these colors to preserve them—to remind me of the magic of the season that always seems too short. In the end, they remind me that there is always magic in the natural world. More importantly, they remind me to look for it.

Note: I borrowed the phrase “desperate colors of fall” from Regina Spektor’s The Sword and The Pen:

“. . . for those who still can recall/the desperate colors of fall/the sweet caresses of may/I hope they happen someday . . . ”