I was alone in my garage, struggling to connect with abstraction and no longer enjoying the process. In that moment, without a plan, I began mixing large amounts of joint compound with acrylic paint, scooping, pressing, and spreading it instinctively. When I stepped back, I saw individual, vividly colored forms emerging across the surface. They immediately reminded me of a scene from Hook, when the Lost Boys imagine a feast into existence through play and color, the moment Robin Williams remembers he is Pan.

That connection mattered deeply to me. Hook is a film I watched countless times with my mom, and those memories are tied to warmth, imagination, and being fully present. Making this work allows me to return to that space. To play without intention, to get messy, to remember joy, and to hold those memories while creating.

The materials carry that meaning. Joint compound, a substance meant to hold walls together, dries into a hard, rocky surface that feels both playful and enduring. Its texture reminds me of climbing hills, wandering through the woods, falling, scraping my knees, of childhood lived physically and without hesitation. That same sense of movement, risk, and discovery lives in the finished work.

Pan’s Feast is where play meets strength, memory meets material, and the act of making becomes an act of remembering. It is not about perfection or control. It is about returning to instinct, imagination, and the freedom of becoming again.