This group of paintings is a personal reflection on decay, delusion, and transformation. My brother suffers from persecutory delusions, fearing he is under constant surveillance. Consequently, he does not trust phones, nor technology. For years he would leave stacks of books at my front door, with notes written in the margins. I saved these books, knowing I would use them in my work someday.
One of these books was an oversize book of Popeye comics, which I used in these paintings. I carefully cut the book apart, preserving the page order, and collaged each page in a grid pattern sequentially, across the canvases. Then, an elaborate process of masking, painting, and unmasking ensued.
Beyond the personal connection to the Popeye comic book as material - the primary impetus behind working with it - there is something about the simple, graphic, cellular quality of the comics that I feel resonates with the complex byzantine, rectilinear structures I masked on the painting surface. Degrading these structures and exposing their rawness connected these paintings explicitly with the phenomenon of decay and its deleterious affects. And yet, the story continues - despite all the shadow and masking and worn surfaces, one can still make out traces of the original comics, beneath the surface. Making this group of paintings is in many ways a processing of the experience of helping my brother, and transforming its harshness into spaces of light, shadow, and beauty.
