The straight line from point A to B is singularly efficient. The actual traverse is fraught with possibilities given tides, wind, dust, telephone calls, mud, traffic, and holes. Imagine you or me crossing the street or the spider connecting her thin threads. Inevitable disruption elicits the creative response.
For me the tallying of these movements within an image is a cartographic activity; I am tracing the currents which cause the erosion and accretion of experiences and materials. As a work progresses these experiences overlay one another, expressing strata of time. For every step I take there are in the space of that moment within the hidden and parallel natural world millions of phenomena moving along at staggeringly different paces and nevertheless in concert, so to speak. Any “traverse” is packed with life.
I read "The Life and Death of a Salt Marsh" by John and Mildred Teal; it lent me a sense of a glacial time scale and that long chain of events to arrive at a specific and complex phenomenon; here is a completely different sense of “traverse” than say, the millions of times a second hydrogen molecules jump off oxygen molecules then re-bond to maintain the form of water. These ideas are becoming part of me especially as I live a portion of the year on a sand and granite peninsula with ocean on one side and large tidal flats on another. And the other part of the year I am immersed in an urban environment. The temporal nature and vagaries of any city journey, even a subway ride, seep into my consciousness and also transpose as marks and masses on the paper or panel. This feeling of teeming energetic life whether hidden or apparent is at the heart of my images: disruption, vagaries, ghostly traces, peninsulas, tides, spidery threads, colliding continents, currents, ripples. As marks cohere into a re-imagined world the result if often what is felt as a slower traverse; that is, the viewer can take an imaginary journey the way one would “set out” on the scholars’ rocks of old.