At the core of the human experience is the ability to connect with what is real ­in us and in each other. It is a state of knowing what is true and good. It is a state that is more and more covered up, harder and harder to reach in this society. The act of drawing connects me to my most human self. It brings me fully into the present.

          The drawings are very much about process. Each drawing is made in a series of steps. The line drawing comes first. The paper is tacked to the wall; the charcoal is taped to a stick to extend my reach and allow me to see the whole page as I work on the largest drawings. Then the paper is drenched with linseed oil. The linseed oil has a thick viscosity and crawls down the page. The charcoal begins to dissolve. More lines are added. The color comes last and is powdered pigment blown onto the surface of the drawing. The color continues to dissolve and move on it’s own for a short period of time. Even after the materials dry the drawing continues to evolve as the linseed oil ages and the colors darken.

          The impulse for a drawing comes from a gesture or an emotion that I see and respond to in my model or models. Single figures or multiple entwined figures may suggest intimacy, peace, or a tender moment; they may suggest struggle, violence or bleak isolation. Whatever it is that they suggest is something that I feel, that I connect with in myself.

I am fascinated by the quality of space in the drawings. The figures are created only with line (the forms are not modeled in the traditional sense) yet the figures seem to have a sculptural quality. They exist with no background information, sometimes tumbling or falling, yet they seem to inhabit a very specific place. This kind of space relates more to Eastern concepts than Western/Renaissance concepts.