They'll Always Have Paris Sculpture

Why is it, regardless of our diverse roles, we commonly share the same lines? Love, anger, confusion, satisfaction, desire, rejection… Not that we’d ever accept such blanket direction—that we all emote from the same script—but the reviews suggest otherwise. The dictionary defines assumption as the act of laying claim to, or taking possession of something; a fact or statement (such as a proposition, axiom, postulate, or notion) taken for granted. The groundwork it seems, for endless repetition if we’re each laying claim to the same thing. So the question begs… Is there a reason why our emotional range remains strangely homogenous, not to mention suspiciously repetitive? More importantly, do our emotional reactions truly belong to us, or, more critically, are they simply reflections of assumptions made long ago? Have we gotten so emotionally lazy that we’ve accepted substituting introspection, epiphany, and catharsis for arrogance, pretension, and blanket ease-of-use just to be able to fast-forward our reactions times? My want is to explore this menu of choice within the human script, seeking not only to celebrate ourselves as we take center stage, but question whether the outcome of Life’s varying scenes belong to us to begin with. With metal I freeze the beauty of who we are. With found object I “can” the assumptions that try to make us believe otherwise.