The penetration of the skin of the North Tower by the doomed jet was an injection of poison, horror and hatred that still courses through our body politic. For those of us who live downtown and witnessed the attack, the streets and empty sky still resonate with the after-image of the towers and the emotions of the day.
My artwork has always been about joy. As a landscape painter, I try to open myself up to the unique beauty of a moment in a place. The paintings reflect the emotions triggered by that transcendental moment as mediated by the painting process. My work has shared my highest moments with my viewers. The Pools and Reflections of summer 2001 are testament to my being Immersed in that flow. My domestic interior, bath, and window view became a microcosm of the play of light, water and energy of the larger world. But I was perched On Edge for a plunge I could not foresee.
9/11/01 changed the way it feels to be me in the world. It feels as if we are now on Old Testament time as the Apocalypse came to our door. The experience of painting my Witness and meditating on the loss, sadness, and power of that day has left me with little ability to access the joy of life. The course of Witness ends with 9/11/02, a depiction of the day when victim’s family members first went down into the newly cleared pit of the WTC site. A high wind blew up and with it a dust cloud resettled on Tribeca a year to the date after the attack. Once again I was rubbing that dust into my watercolor paper.
My recent work is coming from a new emotional place. The Empty Tubs are portraits of absence. Victoria points the way to rebirth from the darkness, but the shadows of the absent towers still haunt me.
