I work inside a metal cubic scaffold around which I stretch a canvas loop. It is a shelter, a constraint, a tabernacle and a boundary. The machine itself–rolling bars and canvas with no end–is a metaphor for the cyclical world. To create an organic image within a rigid system whose nature is to make repetitive marks requires listening, attention and choreography of movement.
The Stochastic series is comprised of three-meter paintings which I make on a cubic mechanism I have engineered for this purpose. This construction severely limits my ability to see the work while I'm making it. It is like painting with blinders on, only able to see one foot of canvas at a time. I hold the memory of surrounding marks as I focus on what I can see and apply paint with an educated yet constantly surprised eye. This process forces me to remain with the present moment. This linear limitation of time is akin to the process of composing a musical score–only hearing one note at a time yet fitting it into the memory of its place in the score.