A Short Statement:

I'm making work that centers around visual accumulations, clots of information, coming together, falling apart, or seen in passing. Context is important to the work. I'm drawn to the transitional place that is neither/nor, in between; where the absence of specificity destabilizes the viewer’s need to fix meaning.  My forms are derived from a typically esoteric collection of interests and obsessions, but  generally an engagement with common, everyday, systems of visual language has informed my work since the beginning.  With the new sculptural objects, and paintings,  the end result is suggestive of many things: minimalist sculpture, architecture, crystals, digital information, toys, game pieces, etc.

Materially I'm engaged in a dialogue between drawing, painting, sculpture, and performance.  I think of my objects as representing a complexity, a coagulation of parts, like individuals, consisting of facets of experience, fragments of time, and memories. They are accumulations of pieces that could make a whole, and when grouped together they become what I refer to as a community of shapes, members in a group, each carrying with them into the world a nexus of experience, or traces that have made them, or conversely are pulling them apart. The formal duality of surface and space reinforces the dialectic tension between stillness and movement, where identity, or being, yields to the potentiality of a blur.

The work happens, it's made, and it's at this stage I'm deluded into believing I have control. After that there are conditions that come to bear on the object, it's interpreted, ignored, moved around, thrown in a corner, rarified on a wall, tossed away, honored, hated, loved, etc.

We make things, then we move those things around. It's like each time something comes to rest it's actually waiting to be moved somewhere else.  Earlier I made performances and toured around the world, making portability an integral part of my methodology. I moved myself, and the stuff I used. Increasingly I see this making sense because I grew up in nomadic communities, living in mobile home, or trailer, parks until I was in my teens. My father and uncles were long haul truck drivers. I started adult life as an apprentice diesel mechanic, working on those trucks. It has only come to me lately, 21 years after my father’s death, that this life of loading things on trailers and moving them vast distances has somehow defined how I see the world. My current work is informed by this incessant movement, of people, things, and meaning.