I find things that instigate work in images that are physical already; books left on rainy pavements, in the trash newspapers left on trains, in an old stack of equestrian magazines left outside a synagogue. These are then filtered through a series of questions that an image usually can’t answer with any certainty; what is the date and time? what is the temperature? what does the air smell like? is it me that’s here or someone else? am I alone? what does this sound like? is this a glance or a stare?
I have to keep a check on my unconscious systems, rules and habits by using interruptions, attenuating the control I have over processes, and by consciously not completing those things which beg to be completed.
I often start with a ‘mistake’, putting obstacles in my way, a chunk of something thick and waterproof, a deep gouge or drilled hole in the middle of a board, right on the spot where I’d usually need things nice and smooth. Using destroyed brushes that are too big or too small, or most often no brushes at all, sanding, drilling, or printing from an unpredictable material invites disorder enough to allow me to bring a failing image back to life.