Building shrines is an ancient compulsion. We scurry around collecting things, we stockpile them, arranging them this way and that. It’s so o welcome, this flurry of activity; acting on orders from without feels so good, obliterating thoughts. And when we finally find the physical contours of the thing and we behold our shrine….it interrupts time and creates stillness.
Sometimes when we are moved by what we do, what we build, compose, write, we find ourselves in this stillness. For me, it is often preceded by a frenzy. And then it sits, this stillness, draping its weight over my shoulders, producing a sensation somewhere inside the moment where we suspend disbelief.
“. . .they are really not so precious, these smithereens. It’s just the air around them that is sacred. . .”
The Offering, 2016, aluminium radiator banding, base metal chain, light.
Nameless, 2014, steel, fiberglass mesh, Wenge wood, ultra-suede, invisible thread, gunmetal chain, LED lights