noun (pl. quanta |-tə| )
1 Physics a discrete quantity of energy proportional in magnitude to the frequency of the radiation it represents.
I thought once when I was very young that it was impossible to say anything at all and get it right. So why speak? In a way, it’s still like that, but I have found another voice, a voice without words, in the visual arts. I still think that you can’t get it right in just one go – but life is hardly ever just one go. It’s a litany of hours and days, of years, of leaves on trees, of seasons, of voices, of friends, of breath, of pain, of joy. So repetition to me is crucial in revealing the heart of a thing. I love that you can sing the same song over and over and it will be different each time and yet still the same. I’ve always thought and worked serially, even when I was very young, and have always felt a compelling need to repeat ideas and forms, searching for a deeper understanding of each form, each idea. Multiplicity permits the miraculous. The cumulative power of that which is repeatable, and worth repeating, can be like the power of waves breaking on a beach. This series of paintings, the Quanta works, celebrate recurrence and differentiation in equal measure.
For background, in physics, a ‘quantum’ is a discrete quantity of electromagnetic radiation – for instance, a particle of light (also known as a photon). Similarly, each mark within a square is a quantum of paint, of markmaking, of thought, of motion. I use the plural form, quanta, to describe the totality of these paintings: a myriad of quantum. The grid is their limitation and their liberation, both, because you can only have poetic expression when there is a structure – even if it is your own structure – to move against. Otherwise you are just free falling.
CV (upon request)