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"Snow on Mott Street". Oil on Canvas
There’s something about a house at dusk that’s both comforting and charged.
It’s the moment when color begins to let go.
"Winter Solstice". Oil on Canvas
I sometimes sense that light has its own logic. Color is not in the object, but in the light. A leaf for example isn’t green necessarily. It’s absorbing every wavelength except green, which it rejects, and shines it back at you.
"Winter Solstice 2". Oil on Canvas
it’s interesting to think of what light chooses to return… from a porch light or frozen ground. Color is the light an object shares.
"Winter Desert". Oil on Canvas
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