I like making marks of all kinds; purposeful marks, awkward and goofy marks, marks so hard they bite the paper or ghost lines so gentle they recall breath instead of touch. But it is more than that. There is a James Joyce quote from Ulysses that has been stuck in my mind for years:
"Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes."
In my work I use coffee stains, wax, varnish, thought's about George Herriman's Krazy Kat, the dog snoring at my feet, the strange animals showing the unexplored parts on old maps, drawings in alchemical text that explain the world, blurry memories of rodeos, frogs and made up birds. Still, what's behind this ineluctable modality? What hides beneath Jakob Boehme's "signature of all things"? I'm not sure. So I let the images develop spontaneously, like that childhood game where you make something out of a scribble, where thought becomes physical.