HOW TO CROSS A LINE:
Time, the seasons, the rhythm of light, the multiplying rhythms of wind-blown leaves.
Recording images in one’s memory, captured on the back an eye for future times.
The paper, like the magnetic tape & the digital sequence looks back at us, not empty
like we first thought, but full of possibilities. Like forms, waiting in stone to be released
by the sculptors chisel. The blank sequence waits to receive. The notes, scrawled on
pages the night before, wait to leap. The mind slips, connects them, a corridor between
two rooms, a road directing traffic governed by intuition, inspiration & rebellion.
Fear & preconception are road blocks to the flow of extraordinary possibilities.
The aim is always to go beyond the brief where even the artist himself is as surprised as