Life, thoughts and ideas are in constant flux. I am open to many lines of enquiry, impressions, themes and tastes. I resist finding a finite form so my work becomes a process of not becoming, or barely ‘making it’. As one possibility appears another disappears. With such an open stance, and a resistance to choose one theme over another, I condemn myself to the bewilderment that Wendell Berry speaks of:
Yet I choose to flounder and stop and start and try and find expression for the impossible.
The result is a collection of fragments, representations of thought processes, notes – as I try to sing.
My process is a navigation and a quest for connection.
…As if, in the presence of the sea, we dried our nets and mended sail
And talked of never-ending things,
Of the never-ending storm of will
One will and many wills, and the wind,
Of many meanings in the leaves…
Excerpt from Continual Conversation with a Silent Man by Wallace Stevens
“To have a life or a place or a poem that is formless into which anything at all may or may not enter is to be condemned at best to bewilderment