Where the Light Touches

Light is like the certainty of faith — it has the ability to hold the “Both” and the “And" side by side. It reflects across the surface of another thing bouncing around like a contagious refraction. At once, both seen and unseen. Light is a signifier of something invisible: like wind or the mist of a breath in the dead of winter. It has the ability to bring solidity to a form but has no substance in and of itself. Light bends and accommodates responding to the nature of the surface it touches. It humbly inhabits the space it is given and imbues it with grace and beauty.

In the series Where the Light Touches my focus is on the exploration of how light bounces and bends around a form to define its specific topographic identity. I am flattening the landscape/mind-scape by oscillating between shape and form, balance and imbalance. By doing so I require the picture plane to function both as window to another realm and as surface on which to play.

The partially humanoid representations, which have been birthed by the caress of light, have the ability to occupy both positive and negative spaces at once. Where the light rests on a surface it creates an abstracted “fingerprint” of the form, cropping and distorting its true identity. How can light blend? How can it distill? Playing with layering and color relationships creates a sense of both deep and shallow space simultaneously. A metaphor for multiple fragmentary moments that progress and bloom together. That do no proceed in a linear fashion.