In recent years, a new paradigm has materialized in the individual perception of other persons and future events. This perceptual reality infiltrates the present moment by morphing sensibilities into fictional awareness which inherently devalues the trust placed on assessing current conditions and creates a perpetual judgmental paradox between the accuracy of reality as we know it and fictional truths from unknown facts.
Organic Facade, from the “Early Signs” series, reminds us to cherish and nurture the present moment by respecting its purity instead of creating a barometer for behavioral impressions and societal conditions. This body of work urges the viewer to take caution when allowing a moment to delegate and prejudge both silent personalities and unforeseen information since discrepancies between behavioral decorations and inherent realities lying underneath create a condition where all surfaces attempt to preempt what reality is and how history plays out.
Tree Houses, the most recent work in the “Early Signs” series, is a response to the growing concern regarding the future availability of natural resources utilized for energy consumption both artificially manifested and indigenous to the environment around the world. The energy industrial complex system currently in place is at risk and the governing body of these energy systems both corporate and federal is under strain due to rising costs, growing demand and an increasingly inadequate infrastructure within the system to sufficiently maintain itself to serve those in need. Tree Houses, reinforces how technological advances and the diminishing services and assistance once provided by businesses in many industries now vacating that role fuels the self- dependency, governing and the individual management ideology taking hold in all aspects of life.
..the tree limbs and plywood nudged against each other like two people yawning in chorus during a steady breeze as the sun rose above the roof tops. The penthouse residences announced their presence with piccolo-like solos drowning out the animated noises of feudal land lords below. A scout, a spy or just a lookout guy was the purpose by decree, as daydreams and fantasies filled the eyes all a youth would need. Light provisions for the day lined the walls on the deck below like piled laundry on the floor; the clouds above were soon to be covered by timber, nails and a secret door. The password sang out defining friend from foe, the reinforcements were climbing with younger brothers in tow. The excitement a crescendo to a squeal-like pitch, each claiming the fortress their own, still happy to share this tree-like niche, to nurture and call it home.
The poem talks about my experience creating Tree Houses, through the memories I recall when I discovered a balance ecosystem, consisting of intellectual contentment, building a structure, social and community harmony and having fun playing in a tree house while immunizing myself from the realities of life.