My creative process begins as thoughts. They're memories, really, or glimmers of observations about relationships, or an emotional charge in my life. These glimmers or charges are accompanied by images, which I turn into drawings. Forms relating to other forms. During this process I need time, patience and solitude. I leave the drawings for a period of time, and then come back to them. I want to see them fresh. Then I can decipher whether the idea is complete enough to begin building.

Recently I have found it useful to build small models out of various materials; mostly clay, wood, and paper. These act as guides as I build the sculpture. It is a process not easily verbalized. What begins as an expression of a particular idea eventually takes on a life of its own. This is a requirement, this separating from me; a separating from my mere idea of what it is. Supplementary drawings allow me to examine assorted options as I try out possible solutions that respond to the internal logic of its separating "voice" or "form". It will leave a trail of developments which I can then look back at and mine for future ideas. In a very real sense, I'm involved in a dialogue that runs from one piece to the next one.

A word about my process. I work primarily in wood, constructing the sculptures from cedar 4x4s. I use a variety of power tools a table saw, a chain saw, band saw, and various grinders, as well as assorted chisels and clamps. It's a process of assemblage: cutting. gluing, pinning, and then cutting away. I will sometimes incorporate elements of metal, wire, rope, or found objects into a structure fashioned from my imagination. These, along with the application of color (I use oil paint), create a dialogue between materials and between forms.

The creative process provides me an opportunity to examine my life experiences. A kind of meditation with forms. It delves into intimate spaces, which language, for all its communicative power, does not access.

It is a meditation from which a variety of emotions issue: surprise, frustration, triumph and delight. I think that when I touch on those places we all share, my personal story falls away and what remains is something universal, something which can speak to the viewer no matter how different the outer trappings of his or her life is from mine.