My paintings, much like life in the South, are layered. They don’t tell a singular story, but instead express the beauty in the juxtaposition of decaying wood that feeds thriving ancient oak trees, or a once vibrant flower bending until its first petal falls. You can never truly experience the world from someone else’s perspective, but you can try to explain it from your point of view. That’s what I do with my brush and canvas. The place where color and paint begin on the canvas is moved, pushed, and covered up. Messy layers, bright colors and imperfections combine to create the familiar yet mysterious image that is the South.