Climbing the mountains as they are built.

You attach one piece and see it set out from itself in layers. Whirring, whizzing and extending.A machine like a rock, that might take eons to build. Begins slowly with a box in the corner and continues to push up like a stretching flower made of azure metals yet un-invented.

At some point as the drawing slips in to the late hours of the night. The lights begin to appear, running lights on a statue – still but changing, concrete but evolving. All up its surface glowing boxes take shape. They are as much as eyes as they are lights looking back and out to see the next line form and the next shape come forward.

Mountains or molehills, all drawing is a metaphor for climbing.