It is hard to justify something as ridiculous and as old as oil painting is. Its long history seems so redundant in today’s society, superfluous even, with the plethora of images and imagery competing and saturating our everyday lives. To attempt to connect to others through this ancient medium, alone in a studio, seems almost anti-technological in this interconnected age. But, perhaps this space and time that the artist inhabits, pouring over a new artwork, is what also creates the space for a viewer to become quiet, to contemplate reflect and possibly to reconnect. I don't know.

Whatever it is, I believe that painting holds up well against all of its successors. It certainly still holds an allure for me, perhaps because I am surrounded by photographic imagery created instantaneously with our new technological toys and devices. I find painting to be the most direct, expressionistic, authentic and responsive medium for all of my personal rants and scribblings. Viscous and slick oil paint, on the end of hairy stick, smeared by the subtle movements of the hand and decisions of the eye, is a complex, idiosyncratic signature. Each mark matches the temperament of the painter on that day - exactly. You can’t make a mark that isn’t you and each choice is exposed directly onto the surface. It is a frustrating, difficult and exhilarating way to pass time.