Comets
Comets
 Nervous Formulation
Nervous Formulation
 Cloud Horns
Cloud Horns
 Tone Haven
Tone Haven
 Little Lives
Little Lives
 Nematodes
Nematodes
 Live Cell 1
Live Cell 1
 Artificial Constraints
Artificial Constraints
 Lifeblood
Lifeblood
 Storm Poem
Storm Poem
 Her Anger
Her Anger
 Summer Is Ending
Summer Is Ending
 Forest Song
Forest Song
 The Muse Enters
The Muse Enters
 Hollow
Hollow
 In Defense Of Losing
In Defense Of Losing
Comets
Nervous Formulation
Cloud Horns
Tone Haven
Little Lives
NematodesAn experiment in motion and texture, evocative of a microscopic biome. Composited from digital animations, video, and generative art created with Processing. Original audio by the artist.
Live Cell 1
Artificial ConstraintsPhysics failing to contain the nature of biology. To paraphrase Prof. Stuart Kauffman of the University of Pennsylvania, unlike mechanical laws of physics which can be calculated and extrapolated to predict a future state, the biological world escapes that determinism by virtue of co-creation, wherein evolutionary adaptations (also unforeseeable) lead to organisms which exert fundamental influences on their environment. The future of life in the universe is a moving target which physics and mathematics will not suffice to illuminate for us in the present.
Lifeblood
Storm Poem"I dreamt of thunderstorms after I made this.The image, that I built,That I looked at over and overTouched, inside of me,memories of real thunderstormsAnd in my sleepLike moths drawn by a light, thinking it moonThose images returned to meAlong with all of the feelings,Excited and fearful.It was daytime, and a storm was pushing in.Who did we see in our dreamsWhen the art-makers first drew our formsin dust, on walls, in pigments and ashes,in carvings and engravings?Did we dream of our mothers and fathers,Of lovers with the heads of leopards,Did arms reach down to enfold usOr strike us, or become wings?"
Her AngerMade with Unity. Intended for a wall-sized projection.Full text of the voiceover, heard in broken and distorted patches over the course of the duration:There is an anger in the land this year. It was always there, waiting underground with the cicada nymphs, tangled with worms. It begins at the root and climbs into the frenzied crowns until the whole sky appears to be quaking with the force of our collective dismay. The earth is breaking, we know who broke it, it was us and them. Mostly him. The birds are not singing about it because the song would burn their throats. The crickets are not singing about it because the sound would snap their legs. The trees are ready to fall, hundred year oaks on their last jagged limbs of reason, rotting and riled. The acreage wants to break like a calving glacier, a wedge of bedrock and topsoil eclipsing the moon. But the Earth holds Her hate and shakes. The Earth holds Her hate and shakes. The Earth holds Her fear and shakes.
Summer Is Ending
Forest SongMy second exploration of moving collage, composing individual frames by arranging multiple image pieces.
The Muse EntersA motion collage, representing the moment of inspiration, when the inner eye (ceaselessly examining and reflecting upon memory and experience) is surprised by the arrival of an idea which has been synthesizing--unwitnessed and beyond conscious control--in the depths of the subconscious mind. This piece is an intentional callback to the apostrophic device (the ritual "calling of the muse") found at the inception of classical epic poetry.
HollowA study in bereavement. The self, unable to locate a core of inspiration, begins to identify as a hollow body. The metaphor has become a perceptual illusion: absence of stimulus grows into evidence of a vacuum state. The longer the dearth of creative impulse, the stronger the static interiority becomes, an inertial block. And who speaks these pleas, and to whom spoken? Artist or muse? When a sense of isolation pervades the endless corridors of the self, corners are turned only to reveal further empty rooms. A thinning of existence takes over, and fragile self-deception is the only inventiveness remaining. We hear--at times just barely--and cannot help, though a heart aches to restore one lost. The only recourse is witness and empathy.Voiceover performed by Esther Moudy-Gummere
In Defense Of LosingWe are creatures in the woods.
info
prev / next