|Bite Box, 2011|
|Forget What I Used to Be, 2013|
|Get The Door, 2013|
|Hello, My Name Is... , 2013|
After a while, the ghosts’ efforts become meaningless. Retracing steps draws a circle with footprints. The steam that was a body struggles to dissipate, and every time the moisture is pulled back down into the proverbial glass, the water level becomes less every time. Sure- experience generates change. Every time there are actions, there are reactions. That said, the building blocks, the underpainting, the foundation—it all stays the same. It is at this point of realization and awareness that there needs to be some kind of explosion; something that allows us to tear down the sketches from the wall and say: “next project”. When this happens, the end gets to feel more like the beginning. Purgatory is in the rear-view mirror, and excitement for new discovery is back. What once was barely tangible, is now stepping heavily on the creaky floorboards, and bumping into walls. It is the realization that a bullet through an apple doesn’t destroy the fruit- it makes applesauce.
|Stumbling Face First, 2013|