It’s so easy for painting to fall into the (rather unfulfilling) search for perfection. I like to think of perfection and all its variations – timeless beauty, universal archetypes, formulaic precision – as not enemies, or even friends, but riddles, the answers to which matter less than the pursuit of them. Instead, painting for me is about how the abstract can hold all things outside of perfection’s limits and still be beautiful; mess, distraction, deviation, and spontaneity are all mediums. It’s about honouring perfection through its opposites, with equal parts respect and rebellion, awe and agency, in the only way I know how.