When it comes to by abstract oil paintings, I tend to lean towards imbalance. I love asymmetry. I love detail. And I love that detail inferred, but maybe obscured, or even totally removed. Architects call it ‘void space’. Artists prefer ‘negative space’. I am fond of that word ‘void’ though. Empty. Removed. Non-existent.

My paintings often represent both movement and self-restriction. They are a collection of layers as well as different methods of art making. The layers encompass bright swathes of sugar-sweet colours in crisscrossing arcs, using my body as a fulcrum.

These swipes are outlined using fine brushes or marker pens, and shellac is frequently used as a way of curtailing these excessively happy colours: a wash of resin dims and unites them; the reduction of carnival-like tones creates a sense of earthiness.

Deletion is often the final step in the process. Thick white paint, or perhaps heavy shellac, is scraped over a large portion of the painting, creating a void space that suppresses the original design. Sharp dividing lines separate it, creating a feeling of three-dimensionality; the void space can be read as either a top layer that hides or a cut that removes the backing entirely.

#00032 Voidspace (2023)

oil paint, shellac, canvas