It is a lifetime's work to study the thickness of the air in my studio and how the moving sun changes that thickness throughout the day. Outside there is an infinity of confusion--too much for one man to handle in a million lifetimes. A man must limit the objects of his attention if he is to approach perfection.
Will Davenport, The Painter
Preparing for this show, I was surprised to realize how many times I had recorded the same view, the slice of Stony Creek seen from my kitchen window. Initially, it may have been the famous Stony Creek sunsets that captivated my attention. From early autumn through late spring, the evening sky over the sound is riveting in it's display of colors so intense they seem hard to believe.
I'm often captivated by the changing qualities of color and light as it falls over my neighborhood. The broken geometry of houses and garages, in muted yellows and greys, provides a structure on which to suspend color and light. Yet, within the framework of color, light, and geometry, it is the bend in the road that is, to me, the most compelling element in the scene, creating a tension between what’s here and close, and what’s unseen and beyond my grasp.
The view from my kitchen window, now implanted in my image bank, has been the backdrop of my life for the past 17 years. I watch it daily, in all seasons, and every night, when a different set of mysteries silently unfold.
Through this work I’ve attempted to prove to myself that the beauty of nature can still be worthy of an artist’s devoted gaze.