Floating in water is where my body feels suspended, almost weightless, and the effort of moving is so balanced and graceful as to seem effortless. That’s the feeling I try to keep with me when I’m moving through the world, and it’s the feeling I want my work to have – conscious of pain but transcending it.
My art is literally created by water, and imbued with its dynamics of movement, fluidity and flow.
Blue water, 14 x 18.5 in., oil paints and bronze powders on Fabriano paper, 1993
More about my Floating colors process
Back from above, 12.25 × 10 in., oils, bronze powder, charcoal, pastel and oil crayon on Linorg paper, 2003
Art looks beneath the surface of life, and for me the place to look has always been the body.
When disability made it hard for me to be out moving through the world, I made my body the focus of my work, exploring the connections between pain, consciousness, and creativity. I draw myself from the inside out, tuning in to sensory and kinesthetic perceptions and finding beauty in a curving spine.
More about the Visible skeleton series
Palegold hands, 10.5 x 13.5 in., oils, bronze powder, charcoal, pastel and oil crayon on Moulin de Fleurac, 1999
Bluegrey stretching/kneeling figure, 9.75 x 12.5 in., oils, bronze powder, charcoal, pastel and oil crayon on Bergerac, 2000
Asymmetry at my body’s core brings the need for a subtle effort of balancing, which keeps me engaged with the workings of my bones and muscles and nerves and senses. In anatomical terms, this is the realm of proprioception, the network of inner body signals and self-sensors through which the body maintains its relationships with space, time, gravity, and all that is other.
Thoracic spinal nerves study, 6 x 7 in., Twinrocker Rotunda, 2020
Double hands, clasping (brown-pink), 10.5 x 8.75 in., Twinrocker Yale, 2017
Spinal cord (cauda equina) with nerve roots [detail], 6.5 x 8.5 in., charcoal on Twinrocker Rotunda, 2011
Drawing connects me to that ongoing work of balancing – to the consciousness, and even the creativity, of the body itself. I work to evoke the textures of real flesh and bone: a sensual take on anatomy, a reclaiming of the inner landscape.
More about Drawing anatomy
Spinal nerve landscape (#1), 11 x 7.75 in., Twinrocker, 2016
Spinal cord butterfly with floating colors (red crystalline), 11 x 15 in., 2017
Emerging nerves (yellow+red), 7.25 x 9.75 in., Twinrocker, 2025
In my latest work, I’ve been venturing ever deeper into inner space.
It’s at the locus of pain – the place where my spinal cord and emerging nerves are most constricted – that the story of my body’s creativity most visibly plays out. In my latest drawings, I’ve been zooming in to explore it in great detail.
More about my latest work and the creative body
Cord closeup (red crystalline) [large detail], 11 x 11 in. on Twinrocker Rotunda, 2025
Spinal cord cross-section (blue cell), 8 x 10.25 in. on Moulin de Fleurac, 2025
My nerve landscapes are becoming looser – still tied to anatomical reality, but less defined, with a different balance of real and imagined and a different relationship to the floating colors.
More about Nerve landscapes
Arbor vitae of the cerebellum (mauve crystalline), 11 x 6.75 in., Twinrocker Yale, 2018
Nerve landscape (indigo + light), 8.75 x 11.5 in., Twinrocker Yale, 2025