I recently had to write an artist's statement. I Googled what exactly an artist's statement should look like and I was a little perplexed by most of what I saw out there. They all seemed so goofy or obtuse.

What I came up with was this:

If you were sitting across from me right now, you’d see my knee bouncing and my
fingers tapping. I can’t stop moving. Ideas, fears and hopes are constantly racing
through my head. It’s like rush hour traffic in my head all the time. But when a canvas is placed in front of me, all the noise melts away. I can focus, and my soul stills.

So, I paint because I have to. I paint to calm the chaos in my head. I paint to seek joy
and make my heart sing. I paint to unearth the stories that shape me. I paint to
release the stories that choke me. I paint to create new stories of hope and
happiness. I paint as a form of self-­‐therapy. I paint because I have to.

I don't paint because I think it will make me famous. I don't paint for praise. I paint because I have to.

I just finished up a painting called "Unbridled."

At the time I was creating the piece I didn't know I was going to call it "Unbridled." I was trying to unburden myself of the chaos that was churning in my head. When it came out it looked like rocks rolling across a green hill. As I was wiping away some paint at the top of the painting, it revealed a word from the news print below: Unbridled.

Sometimes, I feel like the noise in my head can't be controlled or restrained. It's unbridled. But when I put words to the feeling and paint on the canvas, I take control and smooth out the turbulence.

I love the stories and ideas I begin to understand only through creating.