Books are objects meant to be read. They are an architecture of our heritage - recordings of all possible things. In an effort to absolve my reading history and build upon inner logic between reading and visualization, BOOKS: the un-written ones, inscribe the "un-written" in a series of drawings blackened by layers of graphite. 

Sequencing of lines, columns and flat planes are conjoined or stacked-up horizontally referencing emptiness - the promise of something. What I have retained from what I have read is smuggled into the work, but devoid of ‘color’, lines and contours filled with nothing, are the first step toward seeing what more exists. 

Staves. Certain patterns develop; patterns connect with one another, squeeze together, similarly shaped.

Bits of knowledge, one linking with the next.

Sequences look like paths that go one way or another: Bands, joints. wedge, dams and dikes. 

Books appear singularly or in clusters - as blockades or landscapes.

Thoughts are associated with objects. Disappearedness.

Underpinnings gone black, transformed into surfaces.

Block letters.

Form that becomes hollow leaves a blot.

Words conceived in the intellect before they take form in thought, take form in images - in-formed, stripped of color, transformed.

Letters magnified or reduced to shape.

A Library in language that is neutralized - the unwritten word.

The neutral remains structural.

A trail of reading that transforms concepts into surfaces that have gone dark.