Because I am primarily a visual artist I consider text as a supplemental musing. The Not So Solid Earth is a means to work out thought-paths. To steal a phrase from R.A. Wilson, it is where I explain everything or where I expose my ignorance, or perhaps it is not a choice between either/or?
In any case, a general statement:
The “wilderness” does not locate itself – it does not name itself. Naming, writing or marking is constantly up against the expressive slipping of material. The wilderness, what Thoreau called earth made out of ‘chaos and old night,’ is an outside serene or severe, comforting or foreboding. The fields, forests, shoreline pervade my unconscious and stoke the embers of memory. Combinations of elements, mutability and motion from moment to moment is significant to the gradual growth of a painting before the eyes. I see that painting has gotten all of its tricks from nature. Material is implicated directly as artistic texts are considered in terms of how they manage the space in which they appear. Work teeters between associated marking/inscription/image and the tendencies of the wilderness. The contingent tumult of difference is catastrophic but materiality always suggests supplement, additions which, once the subject is formulated, stand in essential relationship to it. Between mark-making and landscape there resonates associative psychological or symbolic affects. Painting is an expression of primary materials augmenting the deposit of memories, myths, metaphors or allegories – a way of looking that discovered what is already given, but is also given over to expressions of what may not yet be found.