There is a process in making my art that is akin to manufacturing clouds, where one must express a certain blurriness of experience, but one can’t be vague about it. It is that exact blurry state, one that seemingly has very little going on perhaps but is full of everything which animates our conciousness. A man can just sit there, sit there and do nothing, and an epic will ensue. Imperceptible tectonic shifts beneath his feet, just under his knowing, the things he used to love he now hates, the things he used to hate he understands, all happening without seemingly any moving part, a slight of hand has brought it into being, and our man just sits there unmoving, part of the continual epic all around him. That simply difficult vision, that depth of experience, with it’s crisp little doors and it’s vast murky expanses has become my current dialog with my work.

The way that “The Exploration of Dead Ends” is conceived is a bit like that journey, a journey where the things clearly happening are as important as the awkward emotions, where the direction seems defined yet the place of arrival isn’t. You walk along and your focus jumps elastically along with you , every second, from thing to thing. You think about your loved ones, then let the ghosts of past memories get the better of you before you return to the room you’ve been standing in this whole time. It’s realism in the same way that ‘Finnegan’s wake’ is realism, or in a certain sense how synthetic cubism is about realism. Above all it's an' investigation what goes on inside, how that little human motor works.

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