My practice could be seen as an ever-developing inquiry into the world—a test of curiosity.

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I quite enjoy being human, luckily so, I guess.
But at the same time, the human experience constantly perplexes me. I feel confronted when I observe alternatives to my experience of the world: the perspectives of other humans, animals, evolution, or physics. Where these distinct perspectives clash and overlap, they hint at a wider, universal experience of senses and forms—a perspective that perhaps someday might be understood.

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For now, though, I feel a little disappointed by our societal grand exercise of navel-gazing.

Why haven’t we erected the institutions required to truly engage with our strange universe, endless meanings, and creationist identity? We are certainly smart enough by now to know that we aren’t smart enough not to be corrupted by our egos.

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I strongly believe there is a near-infinite pool of beautiful forms and experiences waiting for us to be able discover or create them. Beautiful, but tough to reach with our current thinking patterns.

I’d like for us to play with the universe—untainted—experimenting with its forms and functions, and in doing so, learning more about it.

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A lot of my work is about researching my own perception and expanding my ability to think creatively, zooming out as far as I can. Then, once I feel I’ve reached interesting, distinctly different departure points in thought, I use that perspective to propose situations and experiences that might be beautiful or helpful to “us.”

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I suppose I’m lucky too that working on my puzzle usually leaves me with drawings, stories, installations, or performances that a well-meaning observer might consider art.

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