About the work

The world is always a little bit more than it needs to be. It piles on extra layers, an unnecessary flourish here, a gratuitous difficulty there. You feel this most acutely when you're trying to do something simple, like make a sound. The wind takes a different path than your breath. The light has its own agenda, a golden hour that doesn't care for the hour itself. And then there are things that just happen to be there – a balloon, a bird, an audience of snow – all contributing to a kind of fullness that borders on overfull, yet never quite tips. It’s like the universe is constantly editing itself, adding and subtracting details until it reaches this precise point of… not perfect, not even good, but certainly complete.