I like to be awake and working at night. The busy world is at a low ebb then, and I am free to pursue my work with no distractions. At night, the people who will see my work are asleep and dreaming. Logic seems less important at night than vision and sensation.
Places and things illuminated by natural or man-made light at night are isolated from each other by the rich darkness between them like jewels on black velvet. Colors and contrasts are intensified by the void that surrounds them. Night makes things seem possible that in the day are improbable -- places or surfaces that would be mundane or even ugly in sunlight are transformed by night lighting as beautiful shapes are revealed by the hard or soft edges of shadows. Unprecedented colors appear when, for example, a heavy-duty halogen streetlight illuminates ordinary grass and trees. Infinite spaces are suggested, even in confined quarters, by the suggestive darkness.
Sometimes the pictures I make form themselves in my mind's eye. Often they come from quick glimpses of things seen in the world outside my head, from walks or drives or views out of windows. Long distance drives yield many such glimpses when my perceptions are altered by fatigue and the joy of travel.
I make these pictures using glass beads because of their vast variety of colors, textures, and surfaces. The medium -- beads -- and the subject -- night landscape -- both exemplify a different way of seeing the world. The grid that loom-woven work imposes satisfies my sense of order. The grid is also appropriate for the architectural features seen in much of my work.