This new body of work required a search for something real and sustainable both in the physical construction of the work and the images I chose. The image of the shipwreck became a tangible object as a metaphor for our fragile state as a society and for me personally as I leave graduate school and enter the art world. The appeal of these large, well constructed, man-made objects came from their use as war tanks. Built with a persuasion for life everlasting and yet against the force of nature they crumble and are swallowed by the enormous ocean they attempt to set sail upon. The catastrophe has a peaceful ending. With a desire to return to more meager means of survival or serenity I want to drown in the silence of the water's vibration. The materials I choose are in their most unpolished form i.e. raw linen, dirty paint water and pencil, a direct contrast to the indulgence of our society. In looking at art history, works by Casper David Friedrich, Theodore Gericault and Fredrick Church are echoed in these works.

As an artist I am comitted to recording the world as I perceive it. Never feeling that I belong in the spot that I inhabit, it is a constant struuggle for me to define who I am and how exactly I should conform, if at all. I bring an element of this desire into my work. It is not the event that I am interested in, rather the perception of the event. It is the moments that prelude the happening that I want to record. That impluse of simultaneous overlap of life and death that we experience in our daily activity. It is the threshold of the moment of transition that keeps my attention. My desire is to explore and extend the moment into my work and then convey it to the viewer. The constant throb of the heart we take for granted. It is the hiccups of the threatening future that possesses me and the work that I make.