Wayne Dodson's deceptively simple compositions–the abstract play of light against care-worn materials, the breathless poise of stillness and solitude–can be seen as a metaphorical comment on the nature of time and reality. The viewer will find ideas of impermanence, of life and death, of birth and renewal, of order and chaos, sometimes conflicting, sometimes appearing simultaneously, as in life. And even though there is often observed a certain cruelty in his work, an undeniable conflict of natural forces against all attempts at refinement, perfection, and order, truth yet prevails. Order is not denied. Out of infinite darkness there always comes the light.