When I was a child, my father moonlighted as an architect in the basement. It was unfinished, furnished sparsely with a few architect's drafting tables, flat-files, an old blue printing machine, and a large wooden work table. The work table was the place where cardboard models of buildings would be made and displayed. My early fascination with the precision with which they were made - modernist suburban office buildings set in rolling landscapes of chipboard - has stayed with me ever since.

I've always tried to do things the "proper" way, learning all the techniques that I could and applying them to the best of my ability. With the sculptures, I've tried to accentuate the process of the craft. Transforming everyday materials into works of art and presenting them to the viewer is an important part of the work.

The objects I'm basing the sculptures on are things that people have given me - birthday presents, Christmas presents, gifts for no reason at all. During the process of making these objects, I have time to think about my relationship with the givers, examining the situations in which I was given them, and all the emotions of love, longing, and regret that I may or may not still feel towards them.

--September 2007