Sometimes I think an artist’s line and signature may be nothing more than the repetition of forms and colors the repetition of the same choices that have accompanied them for years. Or perhaps it is the same childhood line we have carried with us and that never leaves us; from the first time we took a pen in hand and made marks wherever we could, without knowing those marks would one day become our visual language.
To me, this line and signature are not just a sign or a signature at the bottom of a work for the artist it is a trap a trap in which the artist flails, between repetition and liberation, between loyalty to familiar forms and the desire to move beyond them. Perhaps the real appeal of the artist’s work lies right here
in this constant struggle between the line that makes them and the line that limits them.