I collect images from museums, books, and digital sources. During each chapter of my life, with its attending preoccupations, particular images settle atop the pile, unbidden. This restless, scrolling approach connects me to many languages of art, craft, history, and the vernacular of color.

During a year of full-time travel in 2022, I began creating landscape paintings to explore my conflicted relationship with new environments, working through contradictions of beauty, the limitations of perspective, and my growing concerns about climate change.

More recently, I've expanded my exploration of the landscape genre through collaboration with AI language models. These systems, having ingested a vast history of images, offer imperfect shortcuts to illusion. I’ve discovered they ‘comprehend’ my own visual vocabulary and contain a sense of abstraction. My current practice begins with lush, gestural oil paintings informed by historical references, direct observation, and elaborate verbal AI prompts. I then photograph these completed works and feed them back into the AI system, whose responses become source material for smaller, swifter paintings in water-based media on tinted plaster. Through these recursive cycles, my imagery evolves in unpredictable ways.

In parallel, I create ink drawings on synthetic paper—grayscale works that advance my dialogue with art history, AI systems, and the unpredictable behavior of liquid pigment on surface.

The resulting works present landscape viewed from an uncanny remove. While approaching abstraction, they retain suggestive elements—rocks, plants, wildlife, water. The paintings' physical constraints, the primacy of color, and the materiality of paint intentionally challenge conventions of depth and the rules of gravity. This approach draws from a rich lineage of painters—from Brueghel to Courbet to the Hudson River School—who explored their perspectives within expansive, shifting surroundings.

My work chases a fundamental tension: the material veracity of colored mark on surface and the seductive illusion of space—where a brushstroke can exist both as itself and as a bird in flight.