My Dark Drawings begin as I cover the white paper with the blackest of black charcoal. Working in a spontaneous manner I push and pull the charcoal this way and that, allowing the initial flow to take what direction it will. The surface is quickly loaded, black completely dominating white—but it is the white that holds the key. I rub, smear, and cover, standing back looking hard as I search for clues offered by remaining outposts of white. Soon enough my hand goes to work, led by my eye, pulling up light from the darkness with licks from my eraser, trying to locate that which is to be set free. Often the path taken leads nowhere and fresh charcoal almost covers my tracks, a history begins in the traces left by the forsaken trail. Always stepping back to look, once in a while taking photos with my phone to compress and clarify my progress. Then again my eraser goes to work. An image emerges, at times too quickly for its own good, yet others can be more recalcitrant. However when they do reveal themselves their confidence assured, they own me. Taking the lead they drag me along. I become their instrument, the initial clues gaining power, giving, informing, and demanding more as I follow their measure, dancing to their tune, uncovering rhythms as they evolve, leading on to the inevitable conclusion.
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