Burlap is historically a very utilitarian material. I can’t help but always think of a sack of potatoes. It’s been used as sandbags to resist rising flood waters, camouflage, landscaping, and even as the final hood on one condemned to a beheading. Nothing overly sophisticated. But for an artist this invites a freedom to stretch, unravel, cut, burn, and slice the material in ways I might not if it was an expensive Belgian linen. The fact that it is burlap influences how I feel, think, and work long before the brushes start pushing paint. When I begin one of these paintings I’m starting with something extremely crude and fragile. My goal is to methodically chip away bit by bit until something refined and unexpected appears. There is a thrill in turning something common into something elegant, soulful and fun.