After a number of years wiping out drawings I've become adept at erasure. At points there were no real differences between the erasure and the drawing. I spent many hours moving charcoal from one point to another--tracking and tracing ghosts. More charcoal accumulated on my studio floor than on the drawing. In this cubicle seeing traces of my footprints provided significant evidence that some kind of life had taken place. The cubicle and the small office contain many stories. While the technology has changed, the cubicle has not and our movements and interactions within them haven't either. I spent long hours in each doing work that at the time had importance but remain for me now only activities--invoicing and reconciling, sorting, filing, trashing. Within those activities whole beings appear-- clear, crisp,and complete --evidence of our occupation like the charcoal dust left on my studio floor.