My name is Chase, but I also paint as Pave. If I didn't create, I would implode. Nobody understands me. Everybody understands me.
I like oils, they live longer and create colors of their own accord. Lately I've been turning to alternative canvas sources. As a creative person living during this pandemic, I had to decide to become creative rather than despondent, on many levels. I don't leave the house, but when I do, I've gone to (1) hardware store I found that has everything anyone could ever need.
I rarely plan what I am going to draw or paint, but when I look back after the piece has been born I can see fragmented images of everything in my life. My paintings are my journal. I paint in images yes, but also colors, line, light and shadow... Even though I know the past does not exist, it could be argued I bear its imprints. Wounds cauterized and scarred. Joys that flickered on pathways in my brain. Sadness that can grow if fed just a few scraps.