From Screws to Chalk: The Same Obsession, Different Depth

For years I built paintings outward. Thousands of screws — each one placed at a precise depth, creating a three-dimensional surface you could run your hand across. The figure emerged from the board into physical space. You could feel it.

Then something shifted. I started asking a different question. Not "how do I bring the painting into the room?" but "how do I bring the viewer into the painting?" The answer wasn't physical depth. It was emotional depth. Layers you can't touch but you can feel.

Oil goes over chalk. Chalk comes back over oil. Memory sits beneath the surface and then returns. The obsession with depth never left. It just moved inward.