We glister heavy gold but float, wandering Styrofoam.
There is distinct incongruity between the values that we espouse, the great potential of humanity, and the efforts that we make to ensure it is achieved for the collective. The contradiction chafes against me as I consider the trajectory of civilization. It itches everywhere always but lives so unplaced as to deny the satisfaction of scratch. We operate in absurdity.
I want to investigate this absurdity. To translate and abridge it into Truth. To accept that its lives within me and curse it all the while. I ask, what are the outcomes of shortsightedness for a quick-fix band aid or false flattery hand mirror? For ourselves, for those who come after and after that? What is the consequence of mediated connection that leaves us unmoored and isolated? Who bears culpability for practices that place the few over the many and how do we make preparation for the future when we leave the past in our periphery?
This line of questioning drives my practice.
I work to make the abstract familiar and vice versa, utilizing material phenomena and semiotic contextualization as a platform for contemplation. The prick of pins laboriously picked counters empty exaltations. The cold, lonesome dark of a cave with no mouth speaks isolation and insularity of virtual commune. Blowing ominous clouds of our dust into tomorrow ensures we in proceed in futility. I want to make metaphor our miscalculations and archive them in material memory. Casting rocks into the river.