Lying awake during a cold, moonless night in the Mojave desert I listened to the sounds of coyotes and freight trains. Unable to sleep as thoughts about the eternity of time and of infinite space washed through me, I felt as if I were floating without the ability to control my direction in the midst of a massive vacuum. I was seven years old. That same sense of existing in a vacuum, facing down the full expanse of time never left so I've tried many different methods of facing it, the most productive of which has been art.
I utilize art to express an essence of time passing and of being all at once. I want my art to illustrate the b-theory of time: an object exists throughout all of the points of time that it has been in existence. I attempt to illustrate time both passing and of being with a method that relies on the repeated growth, destruction and growth of a painting's surface. My art does not exist as an object or illustration; this art exists as a temporal body.
i have no art
like dada kissed an existentialist and fell in love with light in time as the thing perhaps is to eat flowers and not to be