for a long time i moved with the awareness of one so alone that such aloneness, the pure spectacular nature of such splendid aloneness, must be accompanied by a viewer. a listener. a reader. when and where this reception would occur has yet to be understood but it became clear that documents must be created. documents of attempts at communication. documents of failed communication. communication, reliant as it is on exchange, is so silent when leaving a body alone. more than silent it is not. not a thing, not a sound, not a sight until seen. heard.
so it is you that makes my art. you with all the sad and so funny jokes. you with all the ludic tragedy of death rushing towards us unmetered. you with soul and mind carved ready. you with words shifty, right and loyal. thank you.
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