I'm a revisionist history painter. Rather than rewrite the narrative of the past to justify an ideology, I repaint yesterday's imagery in order to rationalize our present circumstances.
Telling stories is a part of human nature; it's how we relate to one another. The stories we have in common help us create sincere connections to our neighbors and our surroundings. What's more, storytelling - for better or worse - typically involves hyperbole. We tend to exaggerate; we tend to lie.
Generally, we believe we control our narrative embellishments. What gets exaggerated from one telling to another gets exaggerated to challenge our listeners. What gets repeated gets repeated because it resonates with them. What gets omitted gets left out because it's lost its meaning. We actively use embellishment to keep our audiences engaged.
Given enough distance, however, sources and accuracy fade out and substitutions become the new norms. Quietly, time redefines what is truth and what is fiction.
As a painter, I'm preoccupied by the undeniable role that the image plays in creating this acceptance of the fictional. A painting has the authority to make the intangible concrete, and a series of them has the ability to authenticate a fabrication in our collective memory.