When someone asks me what I do, I say I am an artist. I draw. However, I always seem to hesitate wishing there was a word, a noun to accurately describe someone who draws like me. Draftsman comes to mind but that conjures images of math and precision. This is not what I do.

To draw is a verb. It is an action.

I go into the studio as a space of quiet and solitude to make my work. What occurs there is often a battle between myself and the blank paper at hand. I do not begin with a preconceived vision, only a set of loose parameters I hope to adhere to as closely as possible. Drawing for me is a physical activity that truly occurs when action overtakes thought. It is also like a conversation that begins with a topic but often veers off on tangents, referencing pieces of information, often circling back, occupying time and place.

I add marks then take them away. I rub, sweep, erase, blend and add some more marks. I darken the image, I lighten certain areas, and I use the materials lying closest at hand. I leave and I come back to it building a surface actively or with restraint until an image emerges. The materials dictate the outcome. Their physical properties control the mark that is made. I like to create combinations, using a certain amount of control, yet allowing chance to factor into the process. Permutations, categorization, groupings that accentuate the similarities and differences, each drawing incorporating bits of previous drawings yet maintaining its own individual unique shape and form.