What makes us Human? Who's asking? Robot or Beast? Maybe it's about progression, and the beast made the human, and the human made the robot, and the robot is going to make something else in a hundred more years and that thing that makes us human is simply that we are the second rung on the ladder. I don’t think that's it. It's probably just ego, but it just might be that we find that wild side a little too beautiful, a little too authentic to let sterile mean perfection. So, when our brains yell “onward!” exclaiming that we simply must move towards that shrinking dot on the horizon that we named progress, our bones resist a little. 

Within our growing order, we create spaces where that wild side can be free. We clash, grind and gnar in a game of football, and everyone loves it. We mount the wild mustang and grip the mane as it races across the plains. We fight, we dig, we sweat, we dig some more more, we bleed, we die. 

My series Excavations are selected demonstrations of such places. In each piece, I aim to locate the tipping point between uncultivated wildness and familiar representation. My marks are limited to nothing but my hands and the criteria for my subject matter is the size of the gray area between the subject's intrinsic order and chaos. 

(New work coming soon!)