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. Perhaps we should give more weight to our actions, no matter how small? The whole of our lives is built of innumerable events, one succeeding 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. The atmosphere is thick, and the landscape psychedelically tinted like dawn, an eclipse, or a summer storm. Flora becomes bulbous and feathery in the waning light. Eerie glows float in the air or emanate from craggy terrain. Reality is not what it seems. While building other worlds, the sense of my impermanence in a mysterious universe stretches out into a broader context and I am free, expansive. I describe the moment just before a reckoning or upheaval; the moment before fate takes hold and changes everything.