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We all bear witness to the vanity of human endeavor.
This drives some to madness, almost as an act of theory.
Most days I find myself exhausting my options.
My art is a tangible, on-going pro/con list of what truly matters
and whether or not I should really care.
Honesty. aesthetics. EXALTATION. LoVe.
Brilliance. yearning. RECIPROCITY.
I commit to nothing.
I put forth my agenda.
I am adamant about the bottom line.
But when you face the ultimate inevitability of death
life becomes meaningless; action seems almost retrograde.
In a world where people are never as strong as their ideas,
I wonder if making a connection with others
is even relevant to personal happiness.
But when I'm alone I find solace in the thought
that someone, somewhere must feel as I do.
Falling in love, fainting, fighting, fireworks.
These feelings live on dangerously...
their very existence promising
that we are all the same.
I am a walking dichotomy---
creator.destroyer.lover.deserter.
calamity.catastrophe. with a dash of certainty.
and I believe that you,
whoever you are,
are also
all of these things.
My work area dictates
the line between fact and fiction.
And you will find our common denominator
within my completed works of art.
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