On a beach the waves push up a long scrolling line of sand. The lines cross and erase themselves over and over, a record of the ocean. You can stand in this drawing and you can walk in it as far as it goes.

Three birds call to each other in the woods. Their voices connect geometrically and make a shape or a chord in the trees. As you walk into the triangle the lines pass through your body and rise up and keep echoing where they are.

A painting's color is a kind of space you can be in. Start with a compelling color and see what it gives rise to. If the painting develops, the color becomes like a climate with its own history and feeling, a place where things have happened and keep happening. The clearer the color is, the more you can move around in it.

I live on a small bay on the ocean in Maine. There's a lot of weather and a lot of work, but everything seems to be made of space and is essentially spacious. Everything is moving all the time. For me painting is about making moves without any ideas or plans, but with a sense of awareness and connection.