When Moby Dick emerges from the water, he has a broken harpoon in his back. With a bird on it. I think about that a lot. I think about the way earth mounds up when you dig a hole and fill it back in. But that same hole will settle and the dirt will sink in and be concave.

The fields around my house are complicated with plant life and they are incredibly beautiful. When I cut them, it is also beautiful and they grow back. We don’t get back what we lose. I struggle with that. But replacing that absence with other things and ideas does help. It’s not the same.

The rural landscapes, people, animals and events that I depict come from a version of my experience.  I am not interested in the accurate depiction of these things because they are not literal.  Subjects are metaphors for emotions, activity, place or loss of place.  The cow, trailer, landscape, or people become the clean slate or empty vessel into which I pour a multitude of ideas.  The repetition of these characters and events creates a momentary truth where situations have tangible meanings.   Often pathetic, sometimes heroic and enigmatic these works attempt to articulate my personal narrative and interests.