What even is the point of painting? I asked myself that at a gallery in Chelsea after seeing a photo realist canvas of a road sign that left me completely unmoved before seeing this similarly photo-real painting that had the opposite effect. Was it the moody scene it depicted? Something about this view of a rainy tarmac rendered...remembered... was a kind of antidote to banality. Aside from the technical expertise is the feeling of a human hand as an expert conduit for a sentiment. I've been those eyes looking through a window experiencing that kind of heightened melancholy right before I'm transported from one phase of my life to the next suspended between mourning for something past and anticipating an unknown future...or just returning home. About to be airborne.