James Sullivan

^{thinking sculpture}

I approach sculpture from the inside out, seeking that expression of the body as it negotiates the world and finds itself. Our inner feelings of evanescence or obduracy. How we are found in the world in what we see and touch, and how that might be conveyed through material, form, space, containment. 

I take a walk, in some state of attentiveness but without looking for anything.  I am aware of the smell of the morning, the slightly cool breeze, the shifts from hot to cold as I walk through the trees, taking no path, but avoiding branches, impermeable barriers. I find my way, aware of turning this way or that, feeling the sun shifting on my body, some notion of time and space in my head. There are clearings, closures, shifts in terrain and vegetation. I notice a rock or a bent stick, in just this way. I pick it up.

At this point it is a thing to no one but myself, unless I show it. And then I am showing all of the above—the wind, the light, the clearings and closures—all of the things of my life that are held in my hand.