I think I like it if something was there, even if I put it there … although I started with things I found there … Sometimes I move things to where I like them better … I sometimes fool around with the things until you’d hardly remember they were things … Sometimes I make things up that were never things.
My practice put simply : a provocation and a response. A response using a process that is most interesting or pleasing. It is not linear, or laddered. Perhaps a cluttered desk, with a ‘cabinet of curiosities’ for my little fugues. The experience of looking for something specific in a dictionary or encyclopedia and finding what you didn’t know you wondered about? Perhaps a dissociative fugue where I end up traveling accidentally. Perhaps my conjectures and my resources with the language are not capable of resolving, ‘a priori’ the recurring provocations with representation, with the semic or asemic.
Traditionally I had explained my discursive practice using Canada’s intercontinental rail or the London ‘tube’ with me as the vehicle but arriving in disparate landscapes or stations. I would add the influences of the other occupants that travelled with me and stayed or got off. Today I think of my provocations like a Wilson Cloud Chamber, with multiple particle traces, like notions colliding, you never see the particles just the traces of where they have been. The colliding particles may be from art history, personal experience, or something seen on a walk, an accident or something purposeful with the materials. I can not always supply the 'directive;' the experience in being with the work.
I have interactions, with tools, the chemistry, and the machinery, the substrates. I remain fascinated by the variety of materials and techniques to affect the work and the final expression and a possible emotional response to a piece of work.
By myself I am inquisitive; and disquisitive if I can find someone. I am a print maker, mostly. I make pictures and take pictures, sometimes they are born of laughter, sometimes by pain; by study, or happenstance. Highly eclectic discrete series, often lens based to start, exploring the languages and grammars using familiar and sometimes idiosyncratic methods. The shifts in style, technique and subject matter, a highly playful evasion of aesthetic categorization. There are some 'places' I have visited, some I can not go back to, and some I can not leave. Some, I have no records of the singular works that went their way with the lovers.
Sometimes there is an insouciance to my pieces, like a kid hangin’ out, trying to get a couple of more innings in before it gets dark.