I make story world¬s with an ensemble cast of characters.

LooseCanine is the moniker of an artist who prefers to let the work speak louder than the person behind it. And speak it does — loud, strange, and visceral. The pieces hum with energy; they orbit, collide, and refuse to sit still. They do not behave as paintings should. Each work starts flat — free-flowing acrylic painted onto a hardboard surface — then is cut, reshaped, repainted again and again, and rebuilt into three-dimensional reliefs. Jigsaws, scroll saws, and other tools come into play. What begins as painting becomes sculpture, collage, assemblage. The process is physical, improvisational, and deeply present. There is no set plan. Just momentum. A cast of recurring figures anchors the chaos. A small dog, part trickster, part guide. A camel, both awkward and regal. And her — a central figure who has been appearing for years, even in early sketchbook margins. Part Venus de Milo, part drag icon. Part Matisse cut-out, part ghost, she is ancient, mutable, and full of attitude. Together, these figures form a visual language and narrative that is evolving into something mythic. Despite the strangeness, the work never feels alien. It is raw, but not careless. Free, but intentional. Nothing is polished, and that is the point. The hand of the artist is always present — cutting, layering, letting the pieces reveal what they want to be. LooseCanine is about trust. About letting go of what a painting should look like. It is a practice driven by curiosity, irreverence, and instinct. A kind of visual storytelling that is as surprising to the artist as it is to the viewer. — Carrie Scott, curator