I work from happenstance arrangements that surprise me on city streets, forest trails, and neighborhood sidewalks. The work that follows from those encounters spans painting, drawing, sculpture, and site-specific installation, but drawing is at the center of all of it: a way of thinking through space. I am interested in how a place is internalized – compressed, distorted, recombined – and how a drawing or painting might map that interior experience rather than the exterior facts. The resulting work tends toward the schematic: structures that suggest a geometry without resolving it, marks that propose a view without fixing it. A line can be a branch, a slope, a load-bearing member, or the edge of a shadow. I try to keep that ambiguity open. In the paintings, taut drawn lines hold their ground against loose gestural fields of color – two systems occupying the same surface, neither fully in charge. In the sculptures, galvanized steel studs and wood stakes become three-dimensional drawings: open linear structures that propose an enclosure without completing one, grounded by fieldstones, held in tension with whatever surrounds them. In large-scale wall installations I have worked at the scale of rooms and city blocks, but the impulse is the same – to put a line in space and see what it does to the space. The tension I keep returning to is between the organic and the constructed, the felt and the diagrammed. I am not trying to resolve that tension so much as find a form for it – something open-ended enough that a viewer can bring their own experience to it, and find something different there on the second look than they did on the first.