Drew DiPasquale
Lives and works in Portsmouth, NH, USA
Artist statement
Where imagination and memory coalesce is where I feel most pulled into. Fragments gather around stories until recall and invention become inseparable. This work pulls from the ideas of what life spent in nature is all about. It’s an opening to the real wild and letting nature speak in ways we’ve not fully understood to listen to yet. We experience so much all at once; the work grabs pieces of the ephemeral and rearranges them into its own vocabulary. The weighty feeling of a sunset over the marsh. The green you only see at sunrise in the pines. The curve of a shag’s neck. The splash of a seal playing in the tide. Moments later, these fragments become the raw materials we use to reconstruct ourselves and identities in some way, living in this bountiful yet receding ecosystem. The work lives in that process. We witness life through eyes still learning to see, where reality remains fluid, a perception being built moment by moment, shifting and reshaping itself through time. This work lives in that process. The paintings develop through accumulated layers of memory, decision, and discovery. Each mark responding to the last, building a visual archaeology of impulse and intention. Eyes emerge as anchoring points in fields of color, creatures form from the collision of gestural marks, and spaces open up between representation and pure sensation. While accident and chance remain active collaborators, there's a deliberate curation. Knowing when to preserve the raw energy of a first...
Artwork
- Bad luck to kill a seabird, 2025. acrylic, spray paint, tempera stick, pen, raw canvas
- Duck feet don't walk fast enough, thats why they fly, 2025. acrylic, tempera stick, spray paint, pen, crayon, raw canvas
- What's the difference between an island and a planet, 2025. Acrylic, Latex, Spray paint, tempera stick, pen, raw canvas
- Profile, 2025
- Alligator Shoes, 2025. acrylic, spray paint on raw canvas
- untitled (alligator foot), 2025. acrylic, spray paint, collage on raw canvas
- August, the animals will protect you, 2025. Acrylic, glassine cutouts, photo transfer on canvas
- Don't bite the shag, she knows too much, 2025. acrylic, spray paint, collage, paper on raw unstretched canvas
- Lunar Hatch Promenade, 2025. Acrylic on linen, collage, spray paint, paper