The Cantaloupe Show

My least favorite part of a fruit salad has become a minor obsession these past few years. Its orangeness was an obvious draw, but most of the fruit made it a ridiculous subject matter. It rots at an immense speed, so fast that I scoured the internet for the perfect fake. Truly perfect. I’ve fooled many, many people. The webbing of its rind is fascinating, but laughably intricate for a painter who only uses knives. At one point while trying to follow some meandering path on the skin, I was reminded of Charlotte Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper. This is the level of madness induced by cantaloupe. But the absurdity of the task became an area of play.

With these paintings I wanted to let myself become engrossed and then back away. So far away that there are many landscapes in the pieces. That is far. The whole body of work is about that mental space. Very close, then very far. Infatuation and avoidance. And hopefully balance.