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OUR SHARED DISASTER

These are landscapes.

 

My sense of what landscape is has been evolving, expanding.  What began tethered to place is now freer, larger, an all encompassing psychological landscape.  Most of us spend more of our time peering into backlit screens, less time in the physical world, and the mediated, the digital, has taken hold in my landscapes, alters the real, dazzles and degrades.

 

Wallpaper from a childhood bedroom shows up, images lifted from other artists on Instagram, video-game monsters.  Disaster photos, shared, liked, validated.  Signs reoccur, the most straightforward of signifiers.  Text, jumbled, cut off, weaves in and out of the paintings.  Abandoned buildings still dominate, a long-held touchstone in my work, but they fight for canvas with a cacophony of other "places".

 

Glitter augments everything, I'm drawn to the allure of reflected light, an old instinct to pick up what shines.  To dazzle is to make dazed, to impair ones vision with an excess of light.  The bright screens, the glitter, seem to come from the same space.  The memories are altered by recall, a toy shows up here, a place I've seen in person, but the source material is degraded by use, by the clutter of other images.  

 

Still, these are landscapes.

Quiet Split
Division
Reentry
1:50/3:05
Yellow hummingbird ginger jar
House in the ravine and
Not a through street
100
Santa Rosa, aftermath
1 of 1
e Whitney
7:15 pm es
Fin
End
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Splinters, Lumens
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