art

my love, it does not fit into the containers these constructs and systems demand. my love, it swells and spills, often making a mess of things. i take this mess and start to play. push a little here, pull a little there, until an image begins to appear - like the portraits conceived of by Vik Muniz in his Wasteland projects made of rubbish from the world's largest landfill. i do not mean to say my love is trash, rather that it has been used & discarded from time to time. rat

a selection of images from the original series 'The Fourteenth House on the Right' & 10 years after (2015/2025) This summer marked the 10...

Call me literal (I might not answer because that’s not my name), but I never understood why anyone would beat a dead horse. Coming from a long line of people who learn things the hard way, it took physically fighting a horse to get up from the ground and the ominous words of a stranger for me to figure it out. “It sounds mean, but we’ve beat the hell out of a horse to get ‘em up,” were the wise words of a kind man who had driven for miles to help us try to lift my mother’s ho