In life, as in pictures, there is only the Romantic. Behind the scenes of our lives, there is everything unspoken, unseen, unknown – and nothing. Art is an offering, a show that mirrors the show we form around ourselves as we move through our scenery. Art is always artful, a ruse, a trick. It is a court fool, jumping up and down, aping its masters. Art is part of the dream that we inhabit.
These paintings are scenes of a Romantic nature. They are sweet promises, offering seeming truths about beauty and perfection. They make me think of balloons with cut strings, rising higher and higher in the sky. You stand and watch, filled with longing for something outside yourself, as they disappear into the blue distance.