2022-present

Amber: the tiny faults and refractions, themselves translucent, like little rooms the sun has caught, walls it found as backdrop for— smallest gift— a fly locked in sap. A stanza is a little room from which gifts emerge; also, in Italian: a stopping place. Like roadside altars, or shrines above busy intersections, in Rome or Florence— there behind glass and set into the building, where the eye travels up, rests from wandering and is rewarded for its pause, invited in.

Lia Purpura from On Looking

Los Angeles + San Juan Islands

2018-present

2012 - ongoing

This is a series of analog + digital portraits of people holding vessels. In all cases I ask that they choose the vessel to hold.  I do not ask them to hold the vessel in any particular way.

Digital assemblages with hand painted + cut elements.

Letters to Svetlana Boym from OH.