07/05/2026
The tape was never about precision. Funny, because neither was I. I tape sections of the canvas before I begin not to plan, but to protect what I can’t see yet. I paint around it, into it. And only when I peel it back does the painting tell me what it always wanted to be.
For years I lived the opposite way. Plans, schedules, optimized everything. And every time I followed them I felt this quiet betrayal like I was abandoning something true about myself that I couldn’t even explain. Painting gave it back. No composition. Just what reveals itself.
Have you ever felt that doing the “right thing” and still feeling like you’re betraying yourself?