My drawings are built to resemble images created by projected light--fleeting, mobile and persistent. I draw spheres and forms that are dictated by a woven accumulation of repeated lines. I achieve this with tools that permit the repetition of a uniform freehand mark. I make these tools from Plexiglas strips, the outer edges of which I cut along an unguided line. I fabricate these templates from my personalized mark; this allows the possibility of its repetition. My drawings, or projections, illuminate with a cool blue glow. Included are circles, which conceal their source. I allow this implicit, self-generative light to form an undulating space.

The screen is black. I build drawings on this ground of darkness, squared off to fit within the confines of my favorite viewing device, a cinema screen. This is a device that provides illumination and clarification. My moving-picture screen establishes a boundary for self-contained, memorable moments. This screen provides a source of place; it is a foundation for my knowledge of landscape, history and myth. Widescreen, formatted for television, is the groundwork for my structural enlightenment. My process of drawing confronts the confines of this device.

I am only slightly aware of the illusions that pass before my eyes. The movement is still except for the omnipresent, imperceptible flicker. My vision is always attracted to the coolness of the cinema screen. Film tempers the hottest deserts. It transforms brain-scorching atmospheres into pleasurable solitude. The frozen images captured on film excite me. The distillation of a machine's vision is my provocation. This vision is not tangible. A screen and the recognition of reality block my path. I desire to be lost in a vision produced by a machine, and my drawings glorify its optical results.