Water towers have always intrigued me. For decades I've photographed them along roadsides, often
while driving. For the most part I thought of these photos as a side hobby or as a reference source to
draw upon when I wanted to include a water tower in a painting. Only recently did it dawn on me that the
photos themselves might be art too, or that there may be something to the offhand, seemingly random
quality of these images that might translate into making paintings. This ongoing series represents my first
conscious decision to focus solely on the water towers — largely to the exclusion of all other subjects —
save for light, space, color, and the occasional mundane details of the surrounding landscape.
Specifically I am concerned with how the towers loom on the horizon, or on the visual periphery, as one
travels rapidly along a highway, sometimes catching only a glimpse of them before they disappear. They
can be soft and distant or large and imposing. Often seen near small rural towns, they function as
markers along the route, marking time, distance, and location. Observing these structures has become a
way to play with the notion of travel, of journeys. They represent anywhere and nowhere, so quotidian as
to be easily ignored; yet upon close inspection they reveal an almost alien presence. I like to think of
them as secular monuments that momentarily transcend their utilitarian purpose to hover briefly in the
spiritual realm before receding out of view.