I almost always work in series, producing a number of variations of whatever idea it is that I'm trying to work out at the time. As one piece evolves, the next one -- or three, or twenty- five, if I'm lucky -- starts to take shape in my mind's eye.
My most recent work incudes book-like forms that were inspired in part by several hand-made book-making classes I took with the wonderful teacher and book artist Maria Pisano. Although my "paperworks" aren't actual books, they were constructed by using many of the techniques I learned in these classes.
Another ongoing project includes dozens of non-representational ink drawings, done on full sheets of Arches 140-pound hot-press watercolor paper, using Staetdler fine-line permanent black ink markers. I use a limited number of marks -- scribbles, dots, lines of varying lengths, tiny circles -- which have come to feel like a sort of personal language. The Staetdler markers have a nicely-tapered nib and generous ink flow; the Arches paper is heavy, strong and very smooth. The combination allows me enormous control over the width and density of line.
I have also done a number of ink-on-paper collages, in sizes ranging from 5 x 7 to 22 x 30 inches, using bits of larger drawings that didn't quite work out the way I wanted them to. I particularly like the tiny shadows that emerged from the layering of the paper. I also selected many edge pieces because I love the beautiful deckle that surrounds each sheet of the Arches paper.
The ink collages lead to another series -- watercolor collages -- using cut-up pieces of paper that I saturated with as even a wash of wtercolor paint as I could manage. Some of these were done with cold-pressed paper, which has a slight surface texture that encourages the paint to pool and flow, forming beautiful, subtle variations in the depth of the pigment as it dries.
Unlike my representational drawings, composing the collages is much more spontaneous -- working themselves out out step by step. One piece leads to the next -- compliment or counterpoint. And color! After so much black and white: Now that was fun!
My representational drawings use the same marks -- stippling, scribbling, lines, circles -- the only difference, to me, being a recognizable, rather than a suggestive, outcome. Viewers, however, respond to my abstract work very differently than they do to the pieces with subject matter. Everyday subjects that catch my imagination are my jumping off point. A casual glance might say simply "pussywillows" or "ribbon" or "dog." My hope is that, with a closer look, a piece will intrigue the eye enough to invite contemplation of the exquisite ordinary things in our lives. The geometric tiles merging into and separating from the intricate topography of a black and white dog. A stripped-down negative space that eddies and flows around the sinuous outline of a cat. The angular form of a proud picket fence.
I work towards my compositions via line, shape, negative space, and the balancing of quiet versus active areas. I want the eye to have plenty of space to rest, to breathe, until it has a chance to feel the pull of the area that wants to be examined next. My work is finished when a piece delights my eye each time I first catch sight of it: that persistent little "ahh!" No matter how clearly my mind's eye has seen it, the final product is always a surprise. Which is just a reminder - as if I needed one - of the yawning abyss between the world inside my head and the world that surrounds us all.
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