So much of life is about figuring out when to take control and when to let go—to allow the universe to shape the next moment. Ultimately, control yields accuracy and predictability, while letting go invites the unexpected, the fresh stroke.
I gravitate to watercolors because each painting is a reflection of this exercise: the dance of intention and accident. As I watch the paint pool and blend, the paper’s texture redefines the intensities, the shifting air, and surface angle paint in unpredictable directions. The resulting aesthetic is my abstract vision tempered by concrete elements—making painting an act of faith.
Adding a poem to my paintings shares my poetry on a visual level. In doing so, I narrow the possibilities for interpretation. A mood is thrust on the viewer—which heightens the “accuracy” of how my words are interpreted, but possibly narrows the viewer’s internal dialog regarding the piece. So is communication increased or diminished? How many other possible interpretations might the poem have provoked? How many other messages would the art convey?
And while the way a poem is read out loud often helps literary interpretation, this series demonstrates that a poem, returned to the page, can work with image to polish its “voice.”