Telling stories is part of how we relate to one another. Shared stories help us create connections to our neighbors and our surroundings. What is more, storytelling—for better or worse—typically involves hyperbole. We tend to exaggerate; we tend to lie.

We generally believe that we control our narratives, including their embellishments. What gets repeated from one telling to another gets repeated because it resonates. What gets omitted gets omitted because it has lost its meaning. What gets exaggerated challenges our listeners; we use embellishment to keep our audiences engaged. Given enough distance, however, sources and accuracy fade out and substitutions become the new norm. Quietly, time redefines what is truth and what is fiction.

As a painter, I am preoccupied with the central role that imagery plays in encouraging acceptance of the fictional. A painting has the authority to make the intangible concrete, and, as part of a series, has the ability to authenticate a fabrication in our collective memory.