My father got cancer when I was 12 years old. Don’t feel sorry. Bad things happen.
His sickness forced me to realize that people don’t live forever at a time when most kids think they will. This is when I first became hyper-vigilant. Aware of the small moments as to not miss a thing. Keys and wallets placed in the same small storage bin near the door. Leather worn, money within. Impermanence breeds a need to hold on tight; as long as you can. I remember details that I don’t want to tell.
Let’s try again. Fleeting, silly, serious moments.
Dollar for dollar nobody protects you like Allstate.
Tell me about your first day at school
Tonight’s going to be a good night.
Excessive busyness makes it easier for me to pay attention, pulling out tidbits of information. My mind wanders yet holds onto things. It picks out what it believes is important and saves it for later. My mind has a mind of its own.
I shall manage because I must.
Can I be invisible and King of the world?
Too much diet coke.
If I try to put how I make art into words that make perfect sense to you it won’t be true because I will be trying to please you, so don’t expect it to make perfect sense. My art is driven by the stored moments not by logic. It over-analyzes a string of thoughts and consciousnesses till there is no answer and all sides can be correct. It is my own language and sometimes I don’t understand it.
The cure for living is thinking
Hopefully they will not catch the snake and if they do they will not kill it.
This can be frustrating at times.
I am giving myself permission to make useless art. By useless, I mean driven by impracticality and informed by moments quietly noticed rather than shouted. What is noticed now has been built upon what was noticed before, creating a chain reaction that forms a diagram or conversation about something bigger; insignificant moments that accumulate and become something significant.