Working the other day I had these realizations about my actions—
1: I am (literally) still trying to handle and take care of other people’s feelings
2: Our broken parts are what make us beautiful (pate de Verre materiality)
3: I’m hanging on by a thread
my art practice is one giant metaphor pointing me towards some incomprehensible comprehension. A fleeting glimpse of —if not the truth—at least the tangible.
