When you're on a highway, viewing the western U.S. with the mountains and the flatness and the desert and all that, it's very much like my paintings.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
Painting keeps me occupied in those moments when travel can be aimless and even disorienting. Mainly it is a way to register at least some of the new impressions of a foreign place, when its thrilling barrage can sometimes overwhelm you.
My paintings always feature trails that dissolve into mysterious areas, patches of light that lead the eye around corners, pathways, open gates, etc.
In Iceland, you can see the contours of the mountains wherever you go, and the swell of the hills, and always beyond that the horizon. And there's this strange thing: you're never sort of hidden; you always feel exposed in that landscape. But it makes it very beautiful as well.
I'm like the painter with his nose to the canvas, fussing over details. Gazing from a distance, the reader sees the big picture.
I really admire paintings that look like an actual snapshot - I think that's just extraordinary.
Ironically, my paintings don't photograph well.
I love to photograph the gorgeous landscapes when I travel.
Painting picture by picture, I followed the impressions my eye took in at heightened moments. I painted only memories, adding nothing, no details that I did not see. Hence the simplicity of the paintings, their emptiness.
When I'm traveling the world, I don't ever look anymore at the geography - just enough to catch galleries and paintings.
My paintings are not about what is seen. They are about what is known forever in the mind.