My pieces, both in metal and in stone, are expressions of the purity of geometry. Ever since childhood, I've been drawn to objects and forms that possess geometric shape, straight lines and sharp edges. I should emphasize that this interest is utterly outside the mathematical aspects of geometry and inhabits a purely visual place. That is, I'm interested in these three-dimensional forms solely for their appearance – both the individual forms and the interactions of them in groups.

I'm pretty sure that this interest in geometry is a distillation of my early experiences and perhaps my individual genetic makeup/inclinations as well. How can one know? My father was an operating engineer and I would frequently go with him to the 22 story office building he kept, well . . . operating (in all its complexity) in Chicago's loop. In terms of impressionability, I believe I had an almost hypersensitivity to the fascinating and sometimes scary sensations that presented themselves regularly. Imagine a seven year old boy in a sub-basement boiler room. Imagine him in a 22nd floor elevator control room of large and powerful electric motors with loud and clacking electric relays. There was an abundance of stimulation for all of the senses. All this was present along with more contemplative musings of the, "Just what IS that?" variety. My dad was always busy with a sometimes serious problem that had brought him to "the building" on a weekend, so I was left to conjure my own fantasies about just what this or that complex and shrouded-in-mystery apparatus was really doing. As I grew older and began to figure out the purpose of these structures, they lost their aura of mystery, but the forms, movements and sounds remain to this day and, I think, inform my art in subtle ways.

Even though the making of my pieces is mentally challenging to the point of fatigue because of the subtleties of how one form disappears into another and exactly where and how it reappears on the other side, I really can't imagine working in some other way that might be less taxing. The edges and relationships of the forms are what interest me. Although I find figurative art very appealing and love to examine the intricacies of such sculpture in museums, I have no inclination to depict human form in metal or stone. I'll leave that to those artists who feel about biomorphic form as I do about geometry.

My work in metal is constructivist in spirit. Ever since early childhood, I've been making things, and it gives me great pleasure to build something out of fairly ordinary materials and make it look appealing through both interesting form interactions and good craftsmanship. I use an industrial brake – a metal bending tool, to get crisp bends in the metal sheets, then fasten them together with rivets or screws.

My recent work in stone also consists of geometric forms, and I produce the pieces from detailed digital sketches. The complexity and subtelty of the intersections of geometric shapes keeps the process challenging, and the simple forms interacting in unexpected ways is what interests me. I use alabaster (a very soft, crystalline stone), limestone, medium hardness and non-crystalline and marble, which is crystalline in structure and quite hard.

So, let me be clear that my work is, after all, about "the object". I feel about ephemeral art, such as installations, as I do about figurative art – I'll leave it to artists who feel fulfilled by expressing their abilities and interests in that way. Having something tangible and lasting to view and touch at the end of a sometimes months-long process is vitally important to me. I experience none of the letdown others have described at the point where the project is finally complete. I am always ready to begin the "next big thing", be it a metal piece or a new stone. I also know that as pleasing as it is to have a tangible thing to look at and touch, the real benefit to me lies in the making.

Rob Reed