From my inaugural attempts at painting as a pre-teen I was intrinsically
drawn to interpreting the landscape surrounding me.Utah’s ever-fluctuating
atmosphere, it’s shimmering, ephemeral quality of light mesmerized me then and to this day tantalizes and menaces me. Encapsulating in oil paint the grandeur that envelopes my senses daily seems the inanest of ventures, a fool’s errand at best. Vainly pursuing a specter I have slowly come to realize I will never grasp.
The value lies in the struggle. For myself I’ve learned that painting with an
eye skewed toward the finished painting or product creates a life (and often a
painting) void of depth and meaning. The meditative quality of process is what my heart seeks and has always sought, not the song but the singing. I no longer paint to obtain a finished product, any more than a bird sings to get to the end of it’s song. Songs just naturally end and paintings seem to materialize in spite of my incessant dabbling. Choosing to abide in Helper is an effort at living that meditative process in all aspects of life, painting included.