Minds are like flypaper, at least mine is. All sorts of strange and unpredictable things get stuck to it. Beautiful things, unsavory things; commonplace things glimpsed from a different angle or new perspective. It could be a phrase or a new material, or maybe something so ugly and funky that it becomes beautiful. A little factoid or obscure detail can thrash around in the glue until it wriggles in and begins to itch and fester. Whatever it is, it’s something that I need to pull off the sticky brain-paper and talk about. Making is my way to understand; to reconcile and respond, to pry things open, peer inside and eventually share my observations. In the end, it boils down to this: some things simply must be made. It’s the only way I can scratch the itch.
Here's a little more...
Surface, microstructure, gesture-- a bump or sweet little defect: the true character of things lies in the details. Quiet, strange and intimate places define my world and I think that my work reflects that. The sharing of an idea or observation in the form of a small object is powerful in a way that other forms of expression simply aren’t.