Much of my latest work is a study of contrasts and opposites — occupants who don’t necessarily attract or repel, but simply find themselves coexisting in awkward and sometimes uncomfortable arranged marriages.

Even when cast off into iconic isolation, these forms mostly remain complacent, as if caught up in the splendor of a fog — waiting and listening for another shoe to drop in the forest.

Paintings, drawings and installations are composed with a directness that responds to a need to balance ambiguity with clarity and purpose — in its most graphic and illustrative context — and as a projected belief that suggests beyond this extrapolation of linear thought lies the curving threshold of some undiscovered structure.

From this vantage point, forms cut off from the world make themselves known. Sitting uncomfortably, they spin yarns with the most awkward human touch. Although blind to the actual geometry of the world, they still manage to vibrate with their own framework of static intensity.

These images begin to share a realm of thought that is consistent with the way I experience everyday life — as something full of both wonder and dread — something to be rationalized and organized into tidy little mountains — markers for a middle ground that sits somewhere just this side of infinite space.