When I paint I record something that exists in the moment and that day. The reality of the subject stands before me, or I'm in the thick of it, and if I'm lucky, then something inside me says "You need to and must paint this." I need to because I'm totally taken by it, and I must because it might be gone tomorrow. Whether a falling down homestead or the beauty of nature, I put myself in the position of bringing a place to eternal life, on canvas. It sounds easy, but of course it isn't.
       Other times I paint simply to capture what I see and learn from the experience of painting. I challenge myself, trying to get the light correct, the shapes and values; meanwhile working with the changing elements might bring out laughter in mild frustration. When I first started painting en plein air I cried a lot, now I laugh accepting what I must do to make the painting work. Sometimes I scrape out and start over. Other times it could be a technique, perhaps obscure yet deliberate, that brings the piece together.
      I hope the viewer will appreciate seeing what I have painted not for the technique or style but for the inexplainable essence beyond the visual impact or impression. My paintings are one of a kind.  When I sell a painting that I love I think, "Oh I can paint another one", but no, I can't. Perhaps the homestead or old shed door has been torn down, or I won't go back to a particular site, but more importantly nothing is ever the same and the spirit changes. A new experience emerges and unfolds, and, I have a new painting.