Max Ernst
Not everyone knows who I referencing let alone is familiar with art movement from the past. I though yo u might like to see what motivates me and give me conniptions in the middle of the day realizing how I've strayed from principles and may have discovered my own. Sometimes niches motivate me not to replicate, but to carry on the fascination and lengthen the conversation in my own way. Prolonging the astonishment and never forgetting that human hands were deeply involved in the complexity. We are of nature as well, no matter how we like to make the distinction between man-made, primitive and naturally formed. Then again undulating curves are not tally marks in the third column; nature makes its own and is not always means to commercial gain.
I'm out there right now, trying to find a place for Cell Line to establish itself and not take it as a whim. Pieces and parts take on lives and time outside the making of the series. Process again and everything is getting lengthy. Still, when it's done, its done. There is no questioning and I get hives thinking about overdeveloped pieces. Less may be more, but I hate holding back from the audience. I feel like I'm giving them short shrift and their time means much more than that. I'm not an assembly line with a few color differences to meet the buyers peculiar color palette in living room blinds. I have no children. Therefore these piece have to have a strong foundation and exquisite infrastructure. After that, it is any muse or whim that persists that get ridden out in the wood, fabric and shell. Then I remember its all about the construction, the process and building a sound mind. Life comes in the days and weeks ensuing. I swear something other than these two hands build what I photograph. I never ever ever can see it till months later or with the aid of a photograph. Too close I say. Too close to it in my heart and mind. I've put so much in that upon cutting the cord, it watches, it speaks.