Karen Seapker
For years I have made paintings intended to appear to move in
ways similar to how time feels. In doing so, I learned that each
brushstroke could fully occupy its own rhythm, suggest a decisive
direction, and assume a specific velocity. Eventually, these marks
became so malleable and playful that they began to misbehave
and carve out their own territories.
More recently, I find myself in pursuit of the possibilities of these
marks, while savoring possibility itself. Stirring the pot with
measured amounts of control and abandon until I find my way into
a flirtation with the recognition of something that I’ve never seen
before, but somehow know, or sense familiarity with—like a fully
actualized friend from a former life—without knowing that I knew.
I want to move paint in a way that it will move me, painting
passages as an acceptance of passage, as an affirmation of
motion (in all directions), while simultaneously grasping for the
temporary illusion of tangibility.