My life has always been fragmented, touched by death and illness, in the latter not of my own, but those closest to me. As long as I can remember, the need to create a space and reality of my own, totally separate from the existing world, has been an overwhelming necessity. It is in fact the only place that I feel I truly exist. The paradox of the human condition still manages to diffuse itself into my mind and ultimately into my work, but somehow the frenzied act of creation, both the sublime and the chaotic become one and perhaps even more importantly, they become mine.
I regain some sense of control, however ethereal that may be. The human race, for which I bear no love, becomes strangely the individual – the embodiment of beauty, harmony and grace. Dignity and trust are restored but into a framework which has been touched both physically and spiritually by the juxtapositioning of life and death.
Human baggage takes on a mirage of form. Sexual tension, repression and desire are given free reign in a world to which I owe no debt or guilt. I find myself both in an arbitrary zone of the spectator and the creator. Both the sacred and the
profane aspects of human nature are pursued without judgement or malice.
There is an innate otherness found in a surrogate being not unlike the mythical suggestiveness found in the theatre or in my own mind.
Ultimately I am only trying to understand or grasp this concept called life. There must be a purpose for which we stand in line and bear witness to the cruelty and transfiguration of life when the outcome will always be the same.
It is through this creative process that I go so far inside myself that I fear I will not come back out. It is, however, a journey that I would not avoid taking. With the darkness also come moments of pure light which are hopefully expressed in my work through that which we have come to call "the human spirit".