Distilling Purity: An Internal State

Purity (36"x36")

The canvas called to me, a quiet space waiting to hold my breath, my thoughts, my very essence. As I stood before it, the concept of "Purity" was not merely a word but a deeply felt yearning within me. It's not about an untouched, pristine state that never knew struggle or shadow. No, for me, "Purity" is about clarity, about stripping away the superfluous to reveal the authentic core. It's the moment when intention becomes clear, when a feeling is so true it hums.

I began with the soft, almost luminous cream, laying it down with a tenderness that reflected the calm I sought. There's a subtle texture there, if you look closely, a history of brushstrokes that speaks of process, of building, rather than immediate perfection. On this foundation, I allowed the gentle rise of the pink form to emerge. As my brush swept that curve, I felt a sense of optimism, a hopeful ascent, like the first blush of dawn or the unburdened heart taking flight. This wasn't just a color; it was a quiet joy unfolding, a pure, unadulterated emotion.

Then came the greens. The deep, grounding emerald band at the base, it's a solid anchor, a connection to the earth's unwavering truth. Above it, the lighter, almost minty hues unfurled, bringing a breath of fresh air, like new growth after a long winter. These colors spoke to me of renewal, of the simple, pure cycle of nature.

The blues entered next, a spectrum from the lightest sky to the profound navy. When I painted the light blue planes, I was thinking of expansive skies, of freedom and open possibility. And the deep navy block, it’s a moment of quiet introspection, a plunge into the depth where true self resides, unburdened by external noise. It felt like finding a pure, still point within.

The flashes of yellow and orange, they are the sparks of life, the moments of vibrant energy that infuse clarity with warmth. As I made those strong, direct lines of ochre and burnt orange, I wanted to convey a bold honesty, an unvarnished truth. Even the precise, angular cuts of these colors, juxtaposed against the softness elsewhere, contribute to my understanding of "Purity"—it’s not always gentle; sometimes it’s a sharp, honest revelation.

The white lines cutting across the cream are particularly meaningful to me. They aren't erasing; they are accentuating, suggesting light passing through, or perhaps pathways forward. They remind me that even within a state of "Purity," there can be dynamism, movement, and a subtle redirection. They are not flaws, but rather whispers of possibility within the expanse.

Every stroke, every decision of color and form, was an act of distilling. I wasn't trying to capture something external, but rather to express an internal state, a longing for directness, for an emotional and visual language that speaks without pretense. "Purity," in this work and in my life, is about that essential, unburdened truth—the moment when everything aligns and you simply *are*.