My images of place are all unpeopled; my portraits- bereft of place, of home, maybe. Disconnected, yet the influence of people is evident in each 'scape, whether (obviously) in structures or more subtly in the mood imposed. The portraits exist in a comfort of anonymity rarely achieved in life. Having not the oft striven-for personal effect of portraiture, they take on the aspect of symbolic or iconic sculpture-- transmuting into an object of place after all.

They are all landscapes; singular and mute.

I’m still sorting out the implications, though I guess it has something to do with my equal love of areas dense and remote; of why I find all things nautical or desert romantic; of why I so very love the scapes of dreams-- free of constraints; places of ultimate transmutation.