I’m painting about porousness—like two irreducible consciousnesses becoming emulsified into a solution that also includes a dog in the corner, a lamplight, and dust on the sill. Porous figures slip into abstract reveries as easily as awareness can vacillate between the physical and the psychological. Fragments of image, sound, and bodily sensation intermingle with emotions, distractions, and daydreams. Attracted to the sensuousness of a presence, I take on the point of view of a bee hovering above, drawn by some sweetness in the air. I reach for new, unimaginable colors that might constitute a secret language of energies, significant looks, and endocrine signals, like the flower’s ultraviolet flagging to the bee’s specially adapted vision. My paintings are attempts at capturing and holding something of memory; at making a unified whole out of what’s fragmented and indecipherable. They also serve my urge to re-examine the past, to haunt these moments and the people in them like a bee haunts the hive, probing the storage cells and busily depositing its nectar.