My landscapes are images of place—fleeting impressions shaped by memory, movement, and the act of looking. I am interested in the way a landscape can register in the mind through a brief glimpse: a field seen from a passing car, a horizon glimpsed through a window, a cluster of trees or buildings that remains long after the actual place has disappeared from view. These fragments become impressions rather than precise records, existing somewhere between observation and memory.

My paintings seek to make time visible. I use sketches and photographs as points of departure, but the paintings develop through an intuitive and organic process. I begin with blocks of color, establishing an underlying sense of space and atmosphere. Lines are then layered into the surface, suggesting structure, movement, and direction. As the painting evolves, I continually look, respond, obscure, and reveal, allowing some elements to remain while others are painted away.

Abstraction allows me to move beyond a specific depiction of place toward the sensation of having been there. The resulting landscapes are not intended to reconstruct a particular location, but to evoke the experience of remembering one—fragmentary, shifting, and incomplete. In this way, the painting becomes its own kind of memory: a record not of what was seen, but of what remains.