Abstracts
Abstract art is an opportunity for me to be freer with my work as well as to explore different materials and combinations. That spontaneity often adds some life to my paintings that the representational work does not always capture. My abstract work is always little side projects that develop over time. I hope you like some of them.
Layers of dots
A forest of colours
One of the joys of painting playing with items that are lying around. In this case, I had a piece of raw canvas I had bought years ago and Chinese ink I had not touched for years but then was playing with for another playful piece (see below). These unplanned excursions don't always work but this one did from the beginning. Chinese ink, charcoal and acrylic on raw canvas, 12 by 48 inches. Not for sale.
Lines from all directions

I have Chinese ink in my studio from a project years ago - and then never touched it. I decided to try something and the perfect match was a piece of cardboard, given to me years ago that I also had never touched. I just let the lines of ink run over the surface from every side and at any angle I could arrange. I watched them as I worked on this, urging them to make it down the paper. I can look at the final chaotic product for hours too. Chinese ink on painted cardboard, 24 by 36 inches.

Colour scraping
This is a ten minute spontaneous project that worked. I had been working on the details of a representational painting one afternoon and then found some aging paint and gels. So I decided it was time to try something spontaneous. I added colours and spread them with my palette knife. Then, since I was working on mylar, I scraped the paint back to show some of the beautiful translucence of the mylar. Most of my scraping in life has been when removing snow or ice from walkways, driveways and cars. So perhaps this is a colour version of that wintry task. This photo is taken with a white background behind the mylar, but it changes depending on what's underneath! Acrylic on mylar, 15 by 25 inches.
This is a ten minute spontaneous project that worked. I had been working on the details of a representational painting one afternoon and then found some aging paint and gels. So I decided it was time to try something spontaneous. I added colours and spread them with my palette knife. Then, since I was working on mylar, I scraped the paint back to show some of the beautiful translucence of the mylar. Most of my scraping in life has been when removing snow or ice from walkways, driveways and cars. So perhaps this is a colour version of that wintry task. This photo is taken with a white background behind the mylar, but it changes depending on what's underneath! Acrylic on mylar, 15 by 25 inches.
Many paths
One day, I had masking tape on the brain. I just thought of doing something with layered colours and masking parts off it. So began the slow journey of building up thin layers, so thin that even after six, you can still pretty much see all of them. This was one of my paintings I loved from the beginning - not always the case for all my painting children. I hope it draws you in like it does for me, I have to look and look and look, trying to figure out all the shapes. Acrylic on canvas, 20 by 40 inches.
One day, I had masking tape on the brain. I just thought of doing something with layered colours and masking parts off it. So began the slow journey of building up thin layers, so thin that even after six, you can still pretty much see all of them. This was one of my paintings I loved from the beginning - not always the case for all my painting children. I hope it draws you in like it does for me, I have to look and look and look, trying to figure out all the shapes. Acrylic on canvas, 20 by 40 inches.

Line weaving
I wanted to cover a canvas with lines from all sides of the canvas and all colours. So for months I added line after line to cover the whole canvas - tougher than I expected actually. This ties in with much of my abstract work which is about line and colour. This time there is practically no brush work, simply lines of poured colour with a few final adjustments on the final top orange lines. I find it mesmerizing, it has depth, I happily spent time looking at it. It reminds me of maps, especially subway maps. Quite a messy undertaking but fun. Acrylic on canvas, 16 by 16 inches.
I wanted to cover a canvas with lines from all sides of the canvas and all colours. So for months I added line after line to cover the whole canvas - tougher than I expected actually. This ties in with much of my abstract work which is about line and colour. This time there is practically no brush work, simply lines of poured colour with a few final adjustments on the final top orange lines. I find it mesmerizing, it has depth, I happily spent time looking at it. It reminds me of maps, especially subway maps. Quite a messy undertaking but fun. Acrylic on canvas, 16 by 16 inches.
Wings

The first of my paintings using my paint squeegee. It contains a page from a book and two stamp transfers onto canvas glued onto the paper - see if you can find them. Rice paper is pretty delicate, so I really pushed the limits but it held together. Birds and bird stamps were on my mind and I tried to capture some of the energy of birds flying through the long streaks of paint. Probably the freest painting I have done. Multimedia on rice paper, 14 inches by four feet. Not for sale.
Night light

Much of my work has been based on looking at and reflecting on lights in different atmospheric conditions and times of the day that distort them – night time, snowy, cloudy, rainy, … This is the simplest and quickest interpretation of lights – a one time squeegee of white paint on a black background. I later added some colour glazes to catch the intense brightness and cool colours. I felt a light touch was right to interpret the thousands of lights we see at night – blinding brightness in a sea of darkness. I also feel the basic circular shape is appropriate to capture the concept of lights, but distorted as lights inevitably are by by movement or weather. Acrylic on canvas, 8 X 10 inches.