I would like to invite the viewer into the coolness of night--fabricated endless night illuminated by glitzy indulgent nonsense--a sickeningly dreamlike eternal night realm lit by the
florescence of Yin, inspired by the natural light of Yang, her other half; empty symbols
float about, as they are nothing without the light of day and it’s
opinion-drenched inhabitants. By moonlight, the histories, attachments, and
associations of the emblems are wrung out, and dance scornfully around the fire
of reality; the workings of Yang. They descend to this nocturnal world where
they are subject to an existence equal to charmingly tacky beads on consume jewelry. However,
they are saved. The auras of these symbols are activated by icons in
this narcissistic “World of Yin” where the familiar; the true; the icons with which
I’ve related; dwell eternally as diamonds in the rough.
