Over the past few years while driving from my adopted city Calgary to my hometown Oyen, I’ve found myself storing away a mental inventory of imagery. I always had an attraction the basic figure | ground relationship that can come from light barely separating itself from the minimal line of the horizon. From one season to the next the light changes and I especially look forward to when the seasons are not yet defined and its transition of soft and sharp hues come together. For the longest time I’ve wanted to capture this experience I take away from the scenery I secretly obsess about. / While at the same time trying to watch the road. Each of us sees a horizon line differently. The prairies are seemingly full of empty space but if you look closer you’re sure to find a rhythm. At times the sky casts a brilliant deep, phthalo blue overtop miles of grass that is windswept and pulled in all different directions. This piece, titled After August, is a reflection of the heavy contrast light takes on just as the sun is setting during Alberta’s brief autumn season in late September, early October. I find myself being less literal with my portrayal of subject matter. I’m more interested in the act of painting and the rapport I carry on with my choice of materials. How can someone paint something with their only reference being a large blank space? How should you go about revealing details that otherwise would have gone unnoticed? In art and landscape there’s not much to it until you figure out what you want to get out of it.