Cloth Mother Painting

My work as an artist is, in many ways, an exercise in documentation, inextricable from the infinite transformations humming together to create this moment – the precipice of environmental collapse, daily signs of world desolation, the volatile e-culture, and that central question that wonders through it all: Will there be a human future? I watch the timeless way my friends move through this existence. I illustrate their bravery, sensitivity, sensuality, uncertainty, and fear. Their connection, not only to our terrestrial context, but to history and the heavens. I like the way they look frozen in time, so I invent air pockets for them, collaged with reality, history, myth, and the subconscious. Before the beginning, after the end. The dawn of time and the end of days have much in common; the first and last lights glow with the same deliverance. So, I look backwards, excavating history for answers, escape, and ancient truth. I’m an observer. I’m an unreliable documentarian, augmenting narratives of my choosing. All of my work speaks to the only truths I know to be certain: We need community more than anything. We are home in nature. We create even as we collapse.