2013 I Am My Own Prisoner

Much of my work involves an intensely personal journey of close bodily scrutiny – I am forever searching for some evidence of the invisible inner psyche that might surface in the external physical body. In this image, I express not only some extremely private sentiments, but also attempt to tap into a more timeless and universal sadness that is an inevitable part of the human condition. The individual identity of the figure (in fact my own) is not imperative to the meaning of the work, and the bonds depicted in this image are not physical – they are symbolic of the crosses we all bear, the burdens we carry, the personal demons we all fight, and the restraints we place upon ourselves, often unknowingly, that prevent us from reaching our full potential.

For me this drawing also expresses the mixed feelings I have about being an artist. It is at times a very solitary profession, one that involves an acute sensitivity to which all the vagaries of life can become almost overwhelming to the extreme. And yet, this is something that I have to do – I almost have no choice in the matter. I struggle every day to deal with the world around me, and my way of making sense of it all is through my art. In making this work I am coming to terms with my own demons, in large scale, on full public display for all to witness. This is a painful process, but doing it in this way means that I can’t back away from it. The work has to be finished. I’ve heard it said before that the deepest pain can bring forth true strength, courage and self-knowledge. I believe this is true for all of us in whatever form this revelation will take.

Making a work on this scale is an act of physical and mental endurance. It is exhausting, but at the same time exhilarating. The process of creating is important to me, even more important than the finished product itself, and perhaps knowing that the work would not be permanent has allowed me a much greater freedom than I would have had otherwise. The ephemeral nature of this work is significant in that it is a unique event, witnessed only by a few, and will not end up wrapped in bubblewrap and dust in a corner of my studio. It will in fact remain on the wall, under a few coats of paint, for as long as that wall stands. This thought makes me smile – at the end of the day, the art still remains.