There is a curious territory between figuration and abstraction that lends itself to imagining a story. A narrative instance is expressed in a single frame filled with characters, often human/animal hybrids, that are holding, confronting or biting one another. Or a solitary figure is gesturing toward its own aggression, fury and sexuality. Space is made for conflict to flourish, not to resolve, and to look directly at what is uncomfortable or difficult to face in the self or the other.
I work in a variety of media—from print-making to animation to woodworking to sculpture—but one element is always consistent throughout: the mark of my hand. Drawing thus underpins all aspects of my practice. Ricocheting between discipline and play, I channel uncontrollable surges of emotion lodged in my body into drawings and carvings. Using soft lead to make quick gestural scrawls onto paper, or chisels and saws to carve wood, I shape the marks into figures, leaving a sense of my touch, a sense of earnestness and immediacy. Direct, firm, hard-edge lines are laid down quickly and loosely. I make work without a plan, watching and listening for how to proceed at junctures, staying open for things to transform in unexpected directions.