My art practice and research interest find their roots in a ‘representational’ approach to drawing - though what I strive to locate is the view upon an interior world: the fleeting glimpse of less visible aspects of existence, a hunt for a hint of the unconscious, broader areas of possibility within the perceptual field. As such, a work of art is an excursion into another kind of landscape - not unlike a good night’s sleep, a dream, or a few hours of reverie in the dark of a cinema. We encounter an imaginative world projected outside of ourselves – in order to consider what the world looks like to us.
As with sleep, it is my experience that the act of drawing, in & of itself, can open onto another territory of awareness - a location between ‘real’ and something other. Like sleep, this different place flickers into daylight consciousness, a door we slip through while we’re not noticing. In sleep, this doorway itself is never seen, yet we make the passage just the same. So it could be said of creative practices - at those moments when the body forgets itself and its belief in a fixed position within the tick of linear time. In this sense drawing and sleep are companion states - places we inhabit, where we dwell in a different zone of being. There is a point in drawing where the exterior physical process of tool striking surface can give way to a portal of sorts. The artist enters the piece, and once there, feels compelled to travel about inside the work until finding the destination or resolution. Then (though reluctantly) the artist withdraws. So too it is also often difficult to depart a dream/scape, or to come back to morning from the territory of sleep. I’ve been wandering in drawing, seeking the unexpected among the strokes, erasures, intentions and accidents, I’m hoping for just a glance at who and where and how we reside in these parallel world(s).