My world is made up of textures and layers. As a child I spent hours looking for and picking up rusty nails on our sandy, hilly, driveway after a rainstorm. My Dad would pay me a penny a nail, two cents if it were a larger nail or piece of wire. I can still see the rusty textured layers; the colors of burnt orange, sienna, and sometimes a hint of blue-green patina. This corroded metal intrigued me and still does.
I would like to thank everyone who has found a piece of rusty metal on the ground and saved it for me.
I am energized by the reaction and the texture that is crated on metal when I torture it with heat, or pounding, or paint. Metal doesnít move easily and I love the coaxing of it to give it a tactile life. I become impelled to produce structure and density where there once was smoothness. Of all my tools, my favorites are an old railroad tie, and a chewed up copper mallet. When I use these tools they create my personal marks, textures that are individual only to my work. With my work the concept is what is important to me, not elaborate technique. My thinking is based on metals, colors, dark patinas and the layers that can be built up, and then scratched or sanded away to reveal another texture. I canít say I always know ahead of time what the goal of my artwork is, but I know I have no choice but to look beyond the surface.