Needing work that matched the intensity of feeling after my father's death, I turned to very small paintings with mixed materials; I thought of the devotional, of Mediaeval altars and reliquaries, but also the school child's plaster and papier mache topgraphical maps and their lessons of spatial awareness and organization. Metallics and other materials such as sand, marble dust and mica signified the elemental, while candy wrappers and glitter, with their rich shiny ephemeralness stood for absurdity and transience. My work vacillated between a kind of urgent motion suspended in a viscous opaque field, and a barely coalescing shimmer of thingness, a kind of gleam of hope in a dark ground.

They went untitled until the Pandemic, when I began to see them not only as depictions of teeming space at the atomic scale, or galaxies in space, but falling stars in a world of constant building and undoing.