Are dreams just our confused brains de-fragmenting when we rest, just scraps of picture images racing back and forth through the maze of neuron connections seeking to be correctly filed, occasionally flashing up as a partially recognizable scene that we erroneously feel significant? And in the day another overload of thoughts, and facts and images assails our conscious and unconscious minds until we hit the pillow to get them sorted.

Shapes come to me in the daytime. Sculptural shapes and sculptural ideas emerge complete from nowhere. At least that’s how it appears on the surface of things. But like the process of nightly de-fragmentation and neat filing, that process of re-organizing the blitz of images into a form that is pleasing to my mind and to my set of emotions is what I do. It’s totally personal, it is a physical expression of how my arrangement of emotions copes with the world around me. It’s entirely possible that sculptural shapes that warm me and give me a degree of satisfaction are not universal and mean nothing to anyone else.



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