Thoughts I have during painting often resemble the spirit of the following. Thrust into considerations of the end. Nothing. For all this may descend and fall out. Images from the inside of personal containers can be delivered through mass media and are also entombed this way. But continue adding. Continue up towards the summit. Forgive it and finish the path, do not attempt to explain the alone. The fountain, the falls, criminal reports, put away at the bottom of the bottom drawer. Unsolicited private investigation techniques employed for hours at a time. Fern, dirt, armaments, ordinance, topography. And I feel as if I’m watching a horse drown inside an enormous underground lagoon.

This eventually becomes a list without specific meaning, but still its sentiment contains momentum. Painting for me is a medium through which I configure a set of signs to produce a visual equation. Ultimately I am endeavoring to create an image with a product that is equal to an idea, represented by the sound of the word Plaxsonic.