I pick up a pen and begin to draw what’s going through my mind on the paper support, working by instinct. Ideas surface and come about through daydreaming or sometimes when taking a walk. I randomly travel across the paper with a slow tempo, until I get to a place where I realize what the trajectory of the drawing will become, then the artwork begins to come to life. From there the process takes over and the pace is picked up. Nothing is planned; everything happens in the moment. My process is an intimate, private undertaking. The destination is not predetermined. Its outcome surfaces as I progress with the making of the work.
The repeated images within my work are not preconceived in my mind, rather I'm in a state of expressing and materializing the immediate feelings that swell up. I'm just going with my gut instinct moment to moment. This approach is liberating, by letting the process take over. However, there is always is a sense of control by the way of my conscious hand, which is meticulously crafting the work throughout the entire process. It is unknown what the completed final outcome will be at the early stages. I could just make marks almost haphazardly, yet somehow they all lead to a path through the detailed, undulating, repeated line patterns of shapes and subtle variations of color. Only by the development and progression generated through unseen labor, one touch at a time, and maximum effort invested into the work, does this journey resolve itself. This time that is invested in my work may not manifest itself. I often contemplate how time connects to emotions such as expectation, longing, vulnerability, doubt, and regret when creating and observing an artwork.