Carburetors first interested me because of their visible functionality. Although they are purely functional parts, or perhaps because of it, I find their forms particularly compelling. Their shape implies purpose and concretizes the laws of nature that effect its existence. The purpose of a carburetor, to "breath" for an engine - taking in air and mixing it with fuel before delivering it for combustion - reminds me of parts of a living thing. As a long-time figure painter the tendency to anthropomorphize may be stronger in me than most. Upon my first time seeing a carburetor I was struck by the idea of it having a mouth, held open and facing me. The vulnerability of this open orifice stood in stark contrast to the otherwise imperviousness of the metal. The tension between these opposing characteristics resonates with me as I think of trying to reconcile the often-conflicting internal and external selfs in figure painting. For me these carburetors make relevant subject matter, both for their figurative quality as well as for the way their form hints at the elemental forces that dictate their design. As the American architect Louis Sullivan said, "It is the pervading law of all things organic and inorganic, of all things physical and metaphysical, of all things human and all things superhuman, of all true manifestations of the head, of the heart, of the soul, that the life is recognizable in its expression…"