The oblique noise…

Knowing that I’ll get to make a piece of art after I get home work is one of only a very small number of things that helps me get through the day. When a piece comes together it brings a bit of redemption to an otherwise irredeemably shitty day. When …

The Absent-Presence…

Grief is a kind of breach within time. Loss is a metered distance in the measures of our days, marking the ending of one passage or phrase, and holding the tension in the expectant tempo of the next. Grief enforces a pause. Loss enlists a lingering. And so, we wait… …

Amber & Orange at the edge…

The day you were born it’s as if a match was struck, one that would light a fire that ignites your being but also one that burns through your days. Sometimes the fires at our center smother to a lowly smolder yet, regardless of whether they burn vehemently or not, in the dawning …

Clad in rain…

Sometimes it’s hard to tell when a piece is finished. Sometimes I instinctively know when it’s done, and sometimes all I can do is trust that what I’ve done is enough. Every piece emerges from a place of uncertainty. I unlock my iPad with no broader plan than to make …

Testing the point of care…

For me, life seems to exist in an elongated middle, a never-ending in-between, resting precariously between the bitter and the sweet. For almost as long as I can remember I’ve waltzed through my days with depression as my dance partner. Even in the best of times she remains, silently swaying …

A beautiful failure…

I know that its not the artists job to interpret the work, or to answer the questions left hanging in the air by the presentation of the work. But, somehow I feel like some kind of addendum is in order for this piece. I started writing this unsure of what …

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