My work questions belief structures. I play with subtle shifts of perception. Moving between truth and fiction, I hint at a tenuous stability whose strength relies on its flexibility and resilience. Often, a humorous experience of confounded expectations greets the viewer, who initially recognizes one thing, but looking closer, realizes something is curiously awry. Whether I am combining latex and lace, using rust like oil paint, or pulling apart steel wool to draw, my works all ponder what the real material of creativity is.

The materials I use are mundane, unvalued, mass-produced objects including steel wool, spent sandpaper, thorns and rust. The process develops as an exploration of the qualities inherent in the materials and evolves into a deeper look at their implications. My works are markedly concise and quiet, steeped in wordplay, and often consisting of a single, focused visual element. This simplicity allows the viewer "space" where subtle material variations and meanings may arise and where adaptive re-invention is possible.

Lately, I've been drawn more and more to the idea of public art with a small 'p', no big pronouncements. The idea of works that quietly intervene in an environment . . . to be seen, not seen, destroyed or preserved by the random passerby. I'm intrigued by the "fleeting", experience that allows for chance, spontaneity, and interaction to shape its form.