Color and expression anchor my practice, even as I remain restless in my exploration across various mediums and series. My journey began with textiles: weaving yarns of different colors and textures on a friend's floor loom. I was captivated by the rhythm of the hand and the way fibers intersected to form a world. After nearly a decade, however, I felt constrained by the woven structure and turned to the painterly aspects of my tapestries. This shift led me to painting and drawing, where I discovered new possibilities in organic forms, color, and gestural mark-making. While painting remains my primary medium, I continue to explore textiles, photography, and printmaking.
Abstraction has always been central to my work, moving fluidly between the objective and non-objective. Early on, I was drawn to the symbolism of landscape and the garden. Flowers, in particular, became metaphors for fleeting moments, the joy of living, growth, and tranquility. But with experience came chaos and decay, at times reacting to events in the world. Collage, construction, and the mark of the hand became integral, reflecting the need to reshape and redefine our lives.
As my work evolved, I became increasingly interested in the tension between movement and stillness. Landscape became a vehicle for expression, where gestural marks, lines, and color formed a visual rhythm. Movement signifies life, while stillness symbolizes death. My early optimism deepened into a recognition of life's dualities: the passage of time, the inevitability of death, and the tension between joy and sorrow.
Since the onset of the Covid pandemic, my work has centered on mortality, memory, music, and literature. I find inspiration in prehistoric cave art and a 15th-century Nahuatl poem about mortality, which finds solace in flowers, song, and poetry. A dialogue between past and present informs my mark-making and color use—strata that mirror the passage of time and the transient nature of human experience. Like memory itself, my marks are fragmented and layered, creating visual palimpsests that suggest both accumulation and erosion, the fading resonance of a song or the gradual dissolution of a forgotten image. Color chords, major and minor, become moments of light and dark, the ebb and flow of emotion, both personal and collective.
The figurative mark and line have become more prominent in my work, evoking humans, flowers, and trees. These forms suggest not only the fragility of life but also our interconnectedness. They reflect the delicate tension between presence and absence, between what remains and what fades, capturing the emotional and temporal complexity of existence.
Ultimately, my art explores emotions—what is seen and unseen, remembered and forgotten. It traces the passage of time, like the remnants of old walls that reveal layers of history. Through marks and color, I express the dance between movement and stillness, life and death—a meditation on existence itself. At its core, it is an inquiry into the meaning of life, balancing the sorrow of loss with the joy of living.