Abstract painting for me is like squeezing how I’m feeling out of paint tubes. When I’m feeling particularly happy or sad or even frustrated, I’ll pull out a blank canvas and just see where it takes me. Paint is brushed, poured, poked, dripped, splattered, and smeared, and who I am in that specific moment gets tucked away into each layer of color. Every gesture, every drop of paint added is done with reckless abandon.