I’ve always felt a little off-balance and untethered, like the ground is falling or a breeze could pick me up. The world is moving too fast. I am overwhelmed, jumpy. Who is left to listen compassionately when everyone is screaming, and everyone is mad? Perhaps we should give more weight to our actions, no matter how small? The whole of our lives is built of innumerable events, one following another, obtusely influencing the next. In a world full of unknowns, change and impermanence are our only certainties. If I could come to terms with this, would my fear subside?

I communicate the dilemma of being through landscape. I bring my insides to bear on the outside and trepidation colors the scene. Broodingly, the atmosphere is thick, and the landscape psychedelically tinted like dawn, an eclipse, or a summer storm. Flora glows and becomes bulbous and fleshy, petal-like and feathery in the waning light. Reality is more than it seems. One follows the receding landscape out and away only to wash up again at the shores of one’s skin; hope; longing; loss. While building other worlds, the sense of my impermanence in an expansive, mysterious universe stretches out into broader context and I am free.