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Just what am I making?�� If I were decidedly effective in my artistic endeavors through action and energy I’d arrive at a sensation of elemental power. The twenty-first century in America, there are so many choices! But are these choices always clear? I seem to find myself meandering off into symbolic meaning, metaphysical speculation, technical tribulations, and contemplative moods. As soon as I answer one question and solve a problem another three or five invariably show up. What I want is a smile on the face, a twinkle in the eye, a healthy glow in the gut, and maybe even a friend to confide in. If ��ɫ��Ƶ have these things, I’ve decided to make them.�� Much of my current work seems to explore boundaries; when does the positive connotation of universal optimism morph into the over the top proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free to engage in the addiction and fixation on the pursuit of more consumable short term solutions?�� Whatever you’ve got, I want, if only for a little while.
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