Dana Kim Wolfson

There is nothing more glorious than waking to a morning with a singular focus, to the grand director of the day’s activities...purpose. The sense of purpose found in making art. For some years I believed that I would never succeed as a proper artist. I didn't understand how to make two dimensions into three. I created no landscapes, no portraits. After all, “successful artists” were expected to produce such things.

I held this view until a university lecturer once asked, “why should I spend years laboring to achieve a ‘proper’ portrait when I have already achieved a signature style?”. This observation was a lightening bolt for me - a stellar concept. I was finally given permission to draw. And draw I did. On everything in fact. Drumheads, tree bark, wood cigar boxes et cetera.

Horror Vacui (also kenophobia, from Greek, "fear of the empty")

I was obsessed by the complex images of H. Bosch and Albrecht Durer’s woodcuts. Activity energizing the image everywhere. I use this approach when I draw, filling every available space with energy. The ‘rejects’ from these efforts becoming fodder for collage constructions.

A friend once mused that my art expressed an ‘alien language’, that Martians must be using my hands as a vehicle to communicate. Whilst an interesting concept, art production is a purposeful act. My iconography has existed from the first drawings/diddies to my present work.

My work celebrates the sphere - the bulbous - the curve. Thus, all works are ultimately founded on some form of the circle or overwhelmed by the circular. Humans appear to have an unusual and consistent need to mark their surroundings one way or another. Perhaps a primal urgency to mark one’s territory. My, what an entitled argument! My identity and purpose in life remain inextricably linked to art making. And, just sometimes, a work results that appears as though it was meant to exist.