I’m interested in the allegory of a dead-end woodland stroll to discuss the act of picture-making. A reflexive, veering path leading into the unknown thick of things. Instead of an immediate confrontation with resolution, it’s a path often turning back on itself which values the nature, rather than the meaning of things. The destination is thus subordinated to the present moment, with all its eventualities. An expression of humanities true place in nature - not controlling toward preconceived ends but instead allowing life, or the picture, to happen as an animistic and inconsequential element of natures balance.