I make art because of people.
THE LAST
NON-LIMINAL ARTIST
STILL PAINTING HUMANS
LIKE THEY ARE REAL.
People are at the center of my work, even when they are not actually pictured in it. I make portraits of people who interest me, people I love, people whose stories stay with me, and people from history or culture who make me want to know more. Sometimes the connection is less obvious. I may paint a place, an object, or a flower because it reminds me of someone or because I am making the work specifically for them.
History is still about people.
Some of my work begins with research, especially when I am learning about people from history whose stories have been overlooked or forgotten.
How I Work
I usually start with a person, memory, story, feeling, or idea that I can’t stop thinking about. From there, I figure out what materials make sense. I paint, draw, collage, layer, erase, rub, blend, cut things apart, put them back together, and change my mind constantly.
I am serious about the finished work, but I am not precious about the process. I like experimenting, and sometimes that means using things that are not traditional art materials at all. I have used baby oil, petroleum jelly, and even deodorant to make Prismacolor pencils blend more like paint. If something gives me the effect I am looking for, I am willing to try it.
Whatever Works
I use paint, colored pencil, graphite, collage, paper, photographs, found materials, and whatever else seems right for the piece.
I like learning what materials can do instead of worrying too much about what I am “supposed” to do with them.
The Story Comes First
A lot of my work begins with a person.
Sometimes I paint or draw them directly. Sometimes the artwork is something I made because of them.
A portrait, a historical figure, a flower, an object, or a memory can all come from the same place: a person or moment that meant enough to me that I wanted to make something from it.
Touch it! I Did!
I want people to get close to my work. I touch it constantly while I am making it. I rub it, blend it, move it around, layer things onto it, and handle it over and over. When the materials allow it, I do not want people to be afraid to touch the finished work either.
Art doesn’t have to be untouchable to be important.
Please touch. I did. Just wash your hands first.
Creative Process
For Michael
After a longtime friend offered me kindness at a moment when I really needed it, I woke up around 3 a.m. and painted sunflowers for him. He loves Oshun and sunflowers, so the painting became my way of saying thank you. The flowers are the subject of the painting, but he is the reason it exists.
Paperdolls: Boone Trail
This piece is based on my family and our first home on Boone Trail in Fayetteville. I placed myself in the center, surrounded by my mother, siblings, and father, along with the things that felt just as real to me as a child: spirits, fear, chaos, poverty, and the strange imagery that lived alongside everyday life. It is a family portrait, but also a memory portrait — a way of showing how a child experiences home, love, instability, and imagination all at once.
Pillar of Creation II
Teresa’s daughter once asked me if I would paint her mother in space. My answer was basically, “Well, okay then.” I loved the idea immediately.
Teresa has become something of a muse for me. I have painted her several times, and I imagine I will continue painting her for years to come. To me, she represents a kind of feminine strength that is powerful without needing to announce itself. She is knowledgeable, kind, motherly, funny, and deeply connected to the people around her.
The Pillars of Creation, literally, are part of a stellar nursery where new stars are born. That image felt right for Teresa: a mother, a creator, and, in my own community, a pillar in her own right.
Her daughter asked me to put her mother among the stars. I was very happy to oblige.
Ouroboros
This painting began with my own smile. The irony is that while I was painting it, I usually looked completely serious, turning toward the mirror behind my canvas to measure and compare. Painting joy doesn’t always look joyful while you’re doing it.
September was lovely...