Movement is a series of images. When I see my dog at the beach, for example, a catalog of stimulus flows into me, not about the dog, but rather about his place in relation to the visual universe that he occupies. Head going one direction, his body catching up—an animation concept. Droplets all following thru on their own path. Sand displaced in sifted fury. His movement informs his character independent of the coordinated shapes dodging between solid and negative space, between line and curve, light and shadow; all drawn into a frenzy of whimsey, in a split second. His facial expression comes last because the visual blocking of the scene is finished, so his big clef chin, small forehead over muscled physique become the ornaments of his character’s architecture.
Light and color have an abstract energy. That process becomes a connector in my universe. Light reveals color. Tiny particles of energy dance, weave and bounce off and thru the subject, creating the form between glass walls of refraction, trapped in the edges, spun into a corner. No place to go. Bouncing back up thru the stillness. Or bouncing back at you from a monitor. Color existing only when light slams into it, shadows hint at another passage.