Creation is fraught with destructive acts. It is through such acts that surfaces and forms bear the scars of their journey from inception to completion. The resulting drawing, painting or sculpture becomes a physical manifestation of the internal struggle that inspired it. Perfection is avoided in favor of the incidental gesture or flourish that finishes the piece and declares it fit for public consumption. Once completed, the resolution achieved is short lived, for there can be no closure for an individual who encourages the continuity of chaos as the driving force behind his creative struggle. This orderly chaos provides food for the muse and must be stoked continuously if the art is intended to flow. I avoid suppressing those mercurial thoughts and feelings that fuel my creative fire. I try, from time to time, to glean from them a morsel of reasoning, reining them in for a moment's solace so that I might subvert my angst and use it for creative purposes. In the end, however, the passions I speak of are wild horses meant to roam free.