Joyce Tolley

I am an oil painter. Oils are brilliant and subdued. Viscous and thin. Solid and runny. They can be applied by brush, by knife, by rag, by hand, and as easily removed. I love oils. And I love color. Strong color. I love lines and edges. I love the discovery and adventure of painting. I create beauty out of chaos. I paint the isolation, the desolation, the joy despite. I make the images solid.

I paint. The canvas sits, large and white, in front of me. I lay out lush oils on my palette. I attack the canvas with my implements – brushes, palette knives, rags, fingers – to cover the surface, searching for form. Sometimes I start with an image. Sometimes I start with a concept. When I find a particularly special sequence, something that is “precious,” I bury it. At some point, the original image and its importance disappear, taken over by the dialogue between the canvas, the paint and me.

In August 2014, I moved to Portland from New York City. I bought a car and loaded up my dog. I took off, following Route 90 to Route 84 in Oregon. I took hundreds of cell phone photographs from the car. The beauty of the Pacific Northwest astounded me! I began painting the Road Trip 2014 series.