Lately

(I was blind as a bat as a child, from reading too much. Life became a constant challenge to infer meaning and significance from extremely rudimentary units of color, shape, and movement.)

I've been really interested in photographs, the image, and their translations. My intentions are beginning to clarify.

Art has always been an investigative tool for me, for trying to apprehend reality. It seems to me we build our realities from patterns of (primarily) visual information. The image is our first and foremost line of defense against the world threatening to overwhelm the self...

What interest me are the points in which other senses and ways of knowing interfere, obstruct, or expedite the image, occurring al-or-hyper chemically at two junctures: 1. When the image emerges from a matrix of information, (being) and 2. when the image begins to depart from image-hood and move into discourse, narrative, and myth (existence).

To me, moving from the image of myself to the existence of myself and back is the creative process.

The creative process is a myth.

All myths are metaphor for biology

Man is a monkey, trying to be a tree. The self is a forest, trying to be a seed.

La Vie Pt 4, oil on canvas, 10 x 10 inches, in progress

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