Rust and Rhythm
Original 10 x 10 inch mixed media on paper

Every now and then I come across one of my dad’s pieces that feels like it was built out of sound as much as shape, and Rust and Rhythm is one of those. The scraped lines, the muted reds, the worn metallic tones—they move like something keeping time beneath the surface.

What I appreciate about this piece is how unforced it feels. He wasn’t trying to make a statement; he was following the materials, letting the ink and paint decide where they wanted to gather and break apart. That instinct—trusting the process instead of controlling it—is something he’s carried through every stage of his career.

As I archive these works, pieces like this remind me why his abstraction feels so grounded. Even when the forms are loose, there’s a structural honesty to them. Nothing is decorative. Everything is earned. And that’s the rhythm I see running through this one.