Painting is an opportunity to create images of things as they might be instead of as they are, to reflect the essence of a place as it strikes me in my heart. This might mean leaving things out, adding things in, or making changes. But always it's an attempt to get at what I see as the essence of the model. Viewers will still recognize a place that's been changed in the image, so long as the spirit of the place is not lost.

Painting also gives me a chance to present characters and places that don't really exist. I hesitate to call even my most abstract paintings abstract, because even in these there is a sense of place and space.

Composition, perspective, color and texture are my favorite tools when painting. I tend to think of compositions and perspective as the "bones" of a painting. Once the basic bones of a painting are laid out, they provide a structure on which to drape the gorgeous colors of paint and textures of the brush. I have no problem with changing proportions and perspective if they will serve the composition and sense of space; for example, I'll rotate a set of steps out of proper perspective if it means we'll get a good look at them that we'd otherwise miss. Similarly, I'll change color and texture to serve the painting; if a roof "feels" purple, I'll paint it purple even though it's gray in reality. And I might turn concrete into grass if green will provide the setting that the building really needs.

Others have said that painting is a dialog between the painter and the model. But for me, painting is more than that. It's really a four-way conversation that includes two other players. First, there is the painting itself. As the composition and colors begin to take shape, a painting will often call me to depart from reality in different ways than I initially intended. And second, there is something else more mystical; I'm not sure whether it's chance, the subconscious, or the voice of experimentation, but it's certainly important. Sometimes I'll just let this voice take over, and try to exert less willful influence over the brush instead of more. This can be a risky endeavor, especially when it happens towards the end of a painting. But time has taught me to accept the urge; it always works and often I'll find a new technique this way that I'll be able to use at a later time.

Finally, painting puts me where I want to be, both literally and figuratively. Literally, in that I get to stand in beautiful places for hours at a time as I paint them. And figuratively because I am transported into that wonderful state where the outer world, my inner world, color and image all become one. I hope that my paintings take you, too, to a place that brings you joy.