There is a quality of attention that only extended time in front of a canvas can produce.
I have been thinking about duration — not as a constraint but as a medium in itself. The paintings I make require time in a way that resists the logic of efficiency. They cannot be rushed, not because of technical limitation, but because the work reveals itself only through sustained engagement.
A painting worked on for three months is not simply a painting that took three months. The duration is embedded in the work — in the density of its surface, in the complexity of its color relationships, in the way certain passages carry the weight of revision while others breathe with the openness of first marks.
Slow Looking
We live in a moment that privileges speed. Images are consumed in fractions of seconds. But painting, at its best, asks for a different kind of time. It asks the viewer to slow down, to stay, to let the eye wander and return and wander again.
This is what I am after: a painting that rewards duration. Not complexity for its own sake, but a kind of depth that only reveals itself over time — the way a landscape changes as the light shifts, the way a conversation deepens as trust builds.