I suppose my images come to me in the same way that they do for many other artists. That is, through a period of contemplation and sketching. Personally, I rarely know what the tip of my pencil or brush will emit when I’m working. As I draw I have no plan — as with nature, images reveal themselves when they’re ready. Furthermore I avoid attaching any qualitative measures to my process; there is no good or bad, only that which is irreversible. . .that which has “happened.”

 

My process suggests clues about what is going on deep inside my mind, and of human nature as well. One clue is the theme of repetition; I find myself drawing similar images over and over without an explicit attention to doing so. Bodies floating, demons, angry faces, dogs, sexually ambivalent figures, lovers kissing, etc. Recently, while delving into my sketchbooks, I discovered that I had drawn a view of a yet-unborn child in a woman’s body at least a dozen times. I don’t spend much time discerning what’s behind my choice of subjects.

For myself — and hopefully for those who see them — just viewing my work will be enough.