About the work

The world has always been, at its heart, an accumulation of plastic. Even before the polymers, before the refining, there was an idea of a surface that would remain, an indifference to the passage of a hand. You can find it in sand, if you look close enough, how it holds the shape of the last thing that touched it, a memory without feeling. Or in certain kinds of light, the way it just sits there, radiating, not caring if it illuminates a face or a wall. Everything becomes surface eventually, even thought. A dull glow can achieve a kind of permanence that intention never quite manages.