A Glitch In The Matrix Photograph - Limited Edition of 15

I'm drawn to things which remind me of a deep magic that can be found in everyday life. Growing up in Pittsburgh in the 1970's I experienced much of the outside world sitting in the back seat of my parents 1968 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser station wagon. Coming home from a late dinner at grammy's I’d press my face up against frost bitten December windows, gazing into the night as we sped along the Ohio River. On one side is where people lived and on the other is where they worked. Steel mills raged through the night spitting out orange, glowing, molten rivers of “Slag," a lava like steel byproduct which snaked its way down frozen river banks, disappearing into the cold, dark Ohio. As beautiful as it was alternately violent. I learned it was here, between these two extremes, that life existed.