There is a quiet comfort in knowing what comes next, in choosing a path that has already been plotted, where each step is predetermined before it is even taken. This comfort is reflected in the systematic processes of a machine executing its intended task, or in the promises of a new "intelligent" tool to relieve us of the labor of decision-making. There is reassurance in following a pattern. But this precludes any appreciation for the novelty found in unplanned experience.

This relation between the predetermined and the unplanned is embedded in the generative nature of my process. The mulching of ArtForum magazines, a material I have on hand, and is itself an authority in the contemporary art world, becomes the basis of my handmade paper. The papermaking process introduces unplanned elements and impurities into the surface, which preserves glimpses of the text, color, and imagery the pages once stored. This heavily textured surface contrasts against the programmed movements of the plotter machine used to place and layer the marks. Although the plotter is coded to print a simple, repetitive pattern, reflecting the precision we expect from machines, or the binary logic underpinning our digital technologies, the pattern is interrupted as the marker is nudged off course by the paper's texture. The resulting works, raw-edged and striated like concrete, carries an industrial look: built by hand, marked by repetition, and resistant to the seamlessness that systems of control project. A repeated logic laid over a surface that refuses perfection.