Jamie Greenfield

In much of my work objects, like thoughts, are held in a tenuous relation to one another, seemingly unrelated yet anchored in a structured pictorial space. Some affinities are provided to the viewer while others remain ambiguous and, as in dreams, may be the result of memory, longing, or prescience.
My work draws upon inner sources of personal history in combination with close observation of light, form and space. Much of the time, I have no preconceived plan for the image other than to draw to the requirements of an internal logic that begins to present itself as I go, a progression of possibilities that may initially be engendered by something said, something read, or something experienced. The environment evolves as a dialogue between inner and outer spaces, sometimes presided over by a “narrator” of sorts (the moth, for example). I ask the viewer to engage in a suspension of disbelief in order to participate in the image.
Objects help me to make sense of my life. In this capacity, they are objects to which I am devoted, symbolic perhaps of those things that occur and recur throughout a lifetime and can provide both structure and meaning if we remain receptive to them.
Jamie Greenfield