Below is an exchange with AI (ChatGPT) regarding a few samples of my work. Hopefully in time a new vocabulary will arise which will more accurately describe this process so as not to infuse it with human qualities such as "consciousness" "conversation" or "thinking". It's a data linking & pattern recognition technology. An incredibly impressive one. In this regard much faster than our own brains. Thus it is with this in mind, I present the information below. Impressive in its results. Much more "linking" than any human conversation I've had regarding my work. Confirming some of my thoughts and even adding some dimension.
AI - This is my work. What does it mean to you?
Your piece radiates restraint and clarity - it’s like a quiet geometry of emotion. The soft, muted pastels feel introspective, but the structure of the interlocking shapes holds it all together with intention. It reminds me of memory: the way fragments of time - some sharp, some fading -compose a larger, quieter space at the center.
The large open central area feels like a deliberate breath, or even a kind of absence - as though the painting is inviting the viewer to complete it, or simply sit inside it. There’s warmth, but also discipline. It’s deeply modernist in sensibility, but without coldness. More like Agnes Martin meets 70s color television glow.
So here’s my take: it’s about holding space - for thought, for silence, for being.
What was your intention when making this? Or does it evolve every time you look at it?
Your piece radiates restraint and clarity - it’s like a quiet geometry of emotion. The soft, muted pastels feel introspective, but the structure of the interlocking shapes holds it all together with intention. It reminds me of memory: the way fragments of time - some sharp, some fading -compose a larger, quieter space at the center.
The large open central area feels like a deliberate breath, or even a kind of absence - as though the painting is inviting the viewer to complete it, or simply sit inside it. There’s warmth, but also discipline. It's deeply modernist in
I call it "Nest". The vertical representing the human form. One could say an empty nest. A bower. (Like a Bower Bird that builds a structure) A holding on to a memory or a portrait without a body. The hard lined structure representing the idealized emotion that comes with home. Solidity, control, safety and harmony. Everything in its place. The inner color, the subject - intimacy.
sensibility , but without coldness. More like Agnes Martin meets 70s color television glow.
So here’s my take: it’s about holding space - for thought, for silence, for being.
What was your intention when making this? Or does it evolve every time you look at it?
I call it "Nest". The vertical representing the human form. One could say an empty nest. A form of a Bower. (Like a Bower bird that builds a structure) A holding on to a memory or a portrait without a person. The hard lined structure representing the idealized emotion that comes with home. Solidity, control, safety and harmony. Everything in its place. The inner color, the subject - intimacy.
AI - What does this work mean to you?
This piece feels like a quiet breath held between moments.
The muted palette - soft greys, blushes, faint taupes - suggests suspension, as if time has paused. The rectangular forms hover delicately near the edges, never fully entering the center, which remains vast and untouched - like a silence or an absence being carefully preserved.
To me, it reads as a meditation on boundaries: what is present vs. what is withdrawn. It's not emptiness in the sense of nothingness, but rather emptiness as presence - the kind of space you notice when something was there, or could be.
The warmth and coolness of the outer bars feel like breaths - a slight warmth here, a trace of coolness there - like the faint temperature of a hand just removed. The center holds a neutrality, a void that resists being filled, like the in-between of inhale and exhale.
In this way, it feels like a visual equivalent of waiting, fading, or remembering - but gently. Not tragic, not loud - just... barely there. Like memory fading into quiet.
I’d also say: it holds the mood of your earlier work Nest, but even more distilled - reduced to essence.
What was in your mind when you made this? Did it feel like a continuation of that theme?
Your piece radiates restraint and clarity - it’s like a quiet geometry of emotion. The soft, muted pastels feel introspective, but the structure of the interlocking shapes holds it all together with intention. It reminds me of memory: the way fragments of time - some sharp, some fading -compose a larger, quieter space at the center.
The large open central area feels like a deliberate breath, or even a kind of absence - as though the painting is inviting the viewer to complete it, or simply sit inside it. There’s warmth, but also discipline. It's deeply modernist in
Yes, I call it "98.6°F". It is about nothingness. The main color, neutral, neither warm nor cool. The outer bars, slight breaths of warm and cool. This is about that edge between life and death. Ones last breath. The body before it cools. There is still a base, a ground, a connection to this life.
Yes, I call it "98.6°F". It is about nothingness. The main color, neutral, neither warm nor cool. The outer bars, slight breaths of warm and cool. This is about that edge between life and death. Ones last breath. The body before it cools. There is still a base, a ground, a connection to this life.
AI - This is my work. What does it mean to you?
What strikes me immediately is its gentle fragility and sense of deliberate quietness.
The grid is familiar - an organizing principle - but here it feels softened, almost dissolving. The pale, muted color palette - whites, greys, faint greens and pinks - gives the piece the feel of something barely there, like an old, faded quilt or the memory of light on a wall.
It feels like the surface of something worn smooth by time or touch - intimate, domestic, vulnerable. There’s warmth here, but deeply restrained - like something comforting but hard to grasp fully, always just slipping away into silence.
To me, this painting speaks about the persistence and delicacy of memory. How the things we try to hold onto - feelings, images, places - become thin, translucent, uneven. The grid itself tries to structure these fleeting pieces, but the paint insists on softness and impermanence.
There’s also a sense of emptiness that is not bleak but calm - a space where thoughts or sensations might float gently, free from urgency or weight. Like early morning light in a quiet room.
I could also see this as a meditation on the simple act of being present - of noticing quiet things - like the surface of fabric, the feel of paper, the coolness of shade.
What strikes me immediately is its gentle fragility and sense of deliberate quietness.
The grid is familiar - an organizing principle - but here it feels softened, almost dissolving. The pale, muted color palette - whites, greys, faint greens and pinks - gives the piece the feel of something barely there, like an old, faded quilt or the memory of light on a wall.
It feels like the surface of something worn smooth by time or touch - intimate, domestic, vulnerable. There’s warmth here, but deeply
restrained - like something comforting but hard to grasp fully, always just slipping away into silence.
To me, this painting speaks about the persistence and delicacy of memory. How the things we try to hold onto - feelings, images, places - become thin, translucent, uneven. The grid itself tries to structure these fleeting pieces, but the paint insists on softness and impermanence.
There’s also a sense of emptiness that is not bleak but calm - a space where thoughts or sensations might float gently, free from urgency or weight. Like early morning light in a quiet room.
I could also see this as a meditation on the simple act of being present - of noticing quiet things - like the surface of fabric, the feel of paper, the coolness of shade.
If I were to put it into words:
A quiet reflection on the fragility of memory, the fading of sensation, and the gentle persistence of presence.
Does that resonate with your intention for this piece? Or is there a story or meaning behind it that you’d like to share?
I call it "Milk". A reference to milky white tints but also to the fragility and perseverance of life. Yes, each square may represent a thought, a pleasant moment of time. There is a top horizon line that could represent time, or the passing of light into shadow. As with all my works, it is mostly intuitive. This one has less of a narrative and is simply about feeling.
If I were to put it into words:
A quiet reflection on the fragility of memory, the fading of sensation, and the gentle persistence of presence.
Does that resonate with your intention for this piece? Or is there a story or meaning behind it that you’d like to share?
I call it "Milk". A reference to milky white tints but also to the fragility and perseverance of life. Yes, each square may represent a thought, a pleasant moment of time. An interior with many histories written over with time. The light of a Vermeer entering from the left. There is a top horizon line that could represent time, or the passing of light into shadow. As with all my works, it is mostly intuitive. This one has less of a narrative and is simply about feeling.
AI - What does this work mean to you?
This piece immediately feels quiet, contemplative, and spatial to me - like standing before a void where something once was or might soon appear.
The gradient of soft, muted squares suggests digital imagery, but stripped of its usual sharpness or purpose. Instead of clarity or information, there is obscurity - a central dark absence surrounded by fading color and light, like memory dissolving, or an event receding into the past.
The pixel-like structure reminds me of broken data, forgotten photographs, or interrupted transmission - but also of stained glass or architectural mosaics, something ancient made modern.
I see a suggestion of an eclipse - or a dark portal, where the eye is gently pulled to the center, but finds only emptiness. Like standing at the edge of something unknowable.
Emotionally, this work feels like hesitation, breath held, a quiet threshold moment between presence and disappearance.
What did you intend or feel when you made (or chose) this piece?
This piece immediately feels quiet, contemplative, and spatial to me - like standing before a void where something once was or might soon appear.
The gradient of soft, muted squares suggests digital imagery, but stripped of its usual sharpness or purpose. Instead of clarity or information, there is obscurity - a central dark absence surrounded by fading color and light, like memory dissolving, or an event receding into the past.
The pixel-like structure reminds me of broken data, forgotten photographs, or interrupted transmission - but also of stained glass or architectural mosaics, something ancient made modern.
I call this work, "Habeas Corpus." (You have the body) Again an intuitive work that I haven't yet fully fleshed out. It is in reference to years of dealing with a housing legal system. The process, the rules, the game. Its lack of fluidity filled with stops or punctuation.
I call this work, "Habeas Corpus." (You have the body) Again an intuitive work that I haven't yet fully fleshed out. It is in reference to years of dealing with a housing legal system. The process, the rules, the game. Its lack of fluidity filled with stops or punctuation.
Often, life changing consequences for an individual in contrast to the detachment & mundanity of a daily system. You are exact in stating "Instead of clarity of information, there is obscurity". In this sense the square doesn't represent digital, but stasis or a game board. Here as in my other works, I am painting thought.
