I turn time into space and then back into time.

My work is about time and its ticking. In the making of it, I slow up, trading slap-dash-snap real life for the color, the texture, the visceral pleasures of the materials.

On the belief that objects absorb life and then give it off, I work slowly, layer by layer, so that the effect comes out on the other side in the completed piece.

Water and its properties figure in, sometimes realized as a wave, which is so transient it is illusory, the moment of it gone instantly. Or as reflection, or a drop like a stop-action time tick, or slews of drops accumulating. When words show up, they insert a pause to slow the passer-by.

If I could, I would actually slow the pace and the passing by of life. Impossible. So in the making of art, I turn time (mine) into two dimensional space. And then after, that space turns back into time (others) in the viewing.