Sometimes I Paint from memory; a night, a lake, the way moonlight spilled out of the sky and onto some trees; a city, seen from above, laid out before me like a book, filled with stories.
Other times I work with shapes from nature and natural forces; the tiny worlds that exist in the nooks and crannies of a sea sponge; the way a rock sits proudly in a desert landscape, owning it; the twisted lines in a piece of melted plastic, like roads leading me somewhere strange and beautiful.
I usually choose to work in watercolors. At times it can be an unruly medium, but the way it blends and bleeds suits me well. I gladly relinquish a measure of control because I am often surprised and sometimes delighted by the way a color dries, unexpectedly vivid, or the way a texture rises and appears on the paper, as if it had always been there, lurking just below the surface, waiting to be freed.