I love the feel of the dry landscape and, most recently, my
figures have appeared stranded on a beach or in a friendly desert.
I can feel them being warmed through the soles of their feet, 
standing on the arid but generous surface of the open land. If 
they are indoors, they usually inhabit a healing place, a clinic
or hospice. There is almost always a large body of water or the
intended presence of water in the pieces, though it might remain 
offstage. The figures draw comfort from the presence of a gigantic
life force; its size seems to shrink their problems.

The figures themselves feel lumpy and hesitant. Each has a story
inspired by some words I’ve heard, often taken out of context. 
When I begin a piece, a dialogue forms itself around each figure’s 
particular story. I begin the dialogue with a light sketch. No,the
figure tells me, that’s not quite what I’ve been thinking of. And 
the figure explains where it’s coming from and I play with the paint
a little more and we talk a little more. The result is, to me, the
record of a conversation with a tormented little friend.