stevenkenworthy

Most of my paintings are born from a dream, a fond French memory or reflections on life’s fleeting nature. I almost always see the finished piece before anything touches a canvas, so in a sense - I work backwards. Like everything else I do, my mind is everywhere, do all the things, all the time. I’m then inevitably sidetracked and ultimately find my way to a more surreal, but organic version of my initial vision. It would be fair to say each of my paintings has dozens, if not hundreds of inflection points where I stop, forget where I was going, and chart a new path.

The end result is a once well-designed journey, mapped out with infinite detours and shiny distractions.

One of the things I love about paintings is the ability to bake in endless layers, adding depth and sometimes a romantic confusion in my works. Not every painting I finish has this, but most do and some I can say have entirely different or unique paintings / images buried beneath finished, “new” surfaces. For example, “Me and the Moon” started out as a woman holding a vulture.

That said, it’s almost mathematical how I layer. You have to consider which colors, techniques, brush sizes are going to be dominant, which ones make for softer support and then, figure out how those elements marry best.

Most artists will say a work is never “finished”. As a serial editor, and over-worker, that makes total sense to me. However, knowing who I am, and how I operate, I always tell myself, once you sign it, flip it over and walk away. And this is honestly what I do. When I finish a piece, I sign it and remove it from my work space so I won’t be tempted to keep editing, reworking, adjusting what I once decided was done. This might be the only way I’ll ever actually move onto the next piece, because I know me. And the me I know could edit one painting until I’m 100 years old.