I've been here before I think

Events that are unforeseeable when I begin to produce something new are what truly dictate the direction it heads, creating a set of laws that are significant for only the time and space my work takes up. These events are simply the patterns in which paint or ink dries, or wood grain, or how paper wrinkles, and they become the scaffolding for what is built. I’m partially at the behest of whatever environment I create for myself and that natural variation s that arise are my alternative to the traditional rules of perspective, shading and the likes. I found a vocabulary of mark making, in a similar manner to Sol LeWitt, primarily of short parallel lines, loops, and spikes (though these are limited mostly to drawing). I don’t think of my art as based on formulas, since my self imposed regulations evolve with the piece, and what dictates one idea may be of no importance for another. It’s a relationship that involves seeing what is expressed without my consent and how to manipulate and adapt to those expressions.

But there must be a point of genesis for these rules to be created in the first place, even if it’s simply putting down a layer of paint, where lumps and splotches will be born. I latch on to the inconsistencies and build on them, dismissing the pristine areas that become destined from that moment as insignificant, although they may arise at a later time to become a focus. Layering is an illustration of how I want mistakes to be exploited and how I want interactions between unrelated entities to come on their own. This is what has recently drawn me to monotype printing – it leaves no room for perfection and is a fertile expanse for variation to mature into a different beast entirely.

Of course there are other factors more directly under my control that I use in art. There are ideal colors, and I think they are the only thing that I truly strive for perfection with. There are forms which are necessary to come through for the purpose of the piece. There are times when I want to work with a medium that is unforgiving to such forgiveness. But letting the elements work in idiosyncratic ways, and let myself be present to record those idiosyncrasies is a process that I think summarizes anything that I would want to say in a more direct fashion, but in a manner that I find endlessly fascinating and surprising. If I enter with a thought to explore or a problem to be solved, it often gets buried, but the manner I go about burying it aligns with the solution with scary consistency, and (I think) more eloquently than I could say in any other attempt.