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 its dynamics in greater detail.

Emerging nerves (yellow+red), 7.25 x 9.75 in. on Twinrocker Rotunda, 2024

L2 from above, with spinal cord (yellow), 7.5 x 11 in. on Twinrocker Yale, 2025

At the apex of my lumbar curve, a huge bone spur has formed, functioning as a kind of bony bridge that spreads the load-bearing burden over a greater area and brings it closer in to the center of gravity – a vivid exemplar of the body’s adaptive efforts.

Cord closeup at L1-3 (large black), 13 x 7.5 in. on Twinrocker Rotunda, 2024

How has my body coped and adapted as the damage slowly unfolded over the years? What openings did it manage to preserve for my spinal cord and nerves to pass through its increasingly scrunched spaces? Were those efforts simply a sensory response by the bones to the vibrations of weight-bearing – or does the body have an aesthetic awareness of itself as a whole … even an impulse toward gracefulness? Could the body’s ongoing efforts toward balance truly be considered a creative process?

Cord closeup at L2-3 (red crystalline), 11 x 11 in. on Twinrocker Rotunda, 2025

It was a revelation to understand the three-dimensional rotational deformity of scoliosis as the product of a dynamic process … a process that was always ongoing, as time caused the balance achieved to shift and change.

My vertebrae were engaged in a complex process of remodeling – and my process of drawing was its creative counterpart.

L1-4 from above, with cord + emerging nerves (charcoal study), 10.25 x 7.5 in. on Twinrocker Yale, 2023

L1-4 from above, with cord + emerging nerves (brown-red), 11 x 7.5 in. on Twinrocker Rotunda, 2025

Opening for spinal cord at L2-3 (brown + tan), 8.5 x 11 in. on Twinrocker Yale, 2025

It’s a challenge to visualize these inner landscapes, since I can never really see them – but I sense when I’ve gotten the details essentially right, and the dynamics of the drawing fall into place. It has to come from my proprioceptive sense of what my body would feel like in that pose, and what it would look like inside, if it could be seen … by candlelight or twilight or some shadowy, dusky inner light. When it looks and feels like that, I know I’ve gotten to something real.

Cord closeup at L2 foramen (indigo), 11 x 7 in. on Twinrocker Rotunda, 2025

Cord closeup at L2 foramen (yellow-brown), 7 x 4.25 in. on Twinrocker Rotunda, 2025

Cord visible in lumbar canal (yellow + indigo), 11 x 7.25 in. on Twinrocker Yale, 2025

I’m intrigued by the intricate plexuses where the spinal nerves connect with the sympathetic trunk of the autonomic nervous system, forming networks that wrap around and innervate the heart, the lungs, and all of the body’s internal organs. This is where the movement and sensation we’re conscious of intersect with what’s happening below the level of conscious awareness, as the body monitors itself and its relationships with space, time, gravity, and all that is other.

Spinal nerves + sympathetic chain (pale yellow), 11 x 8.5 in. on Twinrocker Yale, 2025

Spinal nerves + sympathetic chain (grey-red), 9.5 x 5.75 in. on Zerkall Ingres, 2025

Spinal nerves + sympathetic chain (grey-brown), 8.5 x 6.5 in. on Twinrocker Bone, 2025

Cord + sympathetic chain (blue-brown), 10 x 8 in. on Twinrocker Rotunda, 2025

More about the drawings: media, paper, etc.

Overview of all the artwork