At one point I jumped off of the roof of my parent's house. Holding an umbrella and wearing a pair of roller skates, I succeeded, but the umbrella failed to serve its function. This is what happens when elements of the air meet elements of the ground. This is the shifting of a parody. When a circus freak show meets a romantic comedy. This is that uncomfortable desire to shift position. To be grounded. Grounding. Groundless. Through objects. Through movement. Through language. This is a set of propositions.
On possibility, on provocation. A celebration in a box meets the desire for control. Remembering that desire is no longer desire if you achieve its object. Grasping for what it once was, we fail in fits and starts.
To stand on a pedestal is to perform a series of what-ifs. Words, hints, signs, and indications map a language of indecision. An insistence on not wanting to know or to dictate what is coming next. The open embrace of confusion. The growth of the event of an escape. An enterprise of hesitations.
To mimic your surroundings. To encircle yourself. To trip yourself up. To take a diving leap. To fall. And to begin again. To be landed here calls for suspension: the suspension of expectation, of desire, of disbelief. In these works, where action should take place, there is practically none; that which is strange is simultaneously not strange; and promises of conclusion lead to disappointment. This is claustrophobia in reverse, a summoning of the ground after having already fallen. In the way that comedy does not necessarily imply lightness, that which is not whole is not necessarily incomplete. Yet modes of longing persist. With all of these imbalances, I am looking to achieve distance, both near and far, of voyeurism and of surveillance, a creation of witness.
Mixed media installation composed of a series of propositions or tableaux, all loosely based around the fallibility and failures of human flight.