There are visual moments from everyday life that often escape one’s consciousness. The way in which the color planes of sky and sea meet at a distant, that indecipherable point on the horizon; the layering of color patches that mask and obscure graffiti on the side of a building; the cadence of rubber tire marks built up on the highway median, the metallic flecks incased in the waxy build-up on a marble ledge as the result of a skateboard being bashed against it relentlessly. It is overlooked moments like these that inform the work, calling for one to take a slower, closer look.

The work is about place, once familiar yet not. That place of remembering and simultaneously forgetting. Of triumph and tragedy. Of breathing and drowning. I am interested in the landscape as a physical location and as an unattainable romantic idea.

Upon first glance, these paintings appear to be composed of layered blocks of whites, grays, muted greens and blue with the occasional mention of “Tamir Rice Orange”. Their clean presentation, shallow slabs of acrylic ever so slightly floating away from the wall, further enforce a tendency to be perceived as minimal and stoic. Given further examination, however, and the works reward viewers with so much more: surfaces that fluctuate between matte and glossy, layers that have been painted, sanded, buffed, polished, and scraped, edges that are the evidence of being tapped to reveal the failure, and whites that show themselves to be anything but.