Makeshift Matter Bronze, steel, Douglas fir
 Makeshift Matter Bronze, steel, Douglas fir
 Makeshift Matter Silver, wood
 Makeshift Matter Silver, wood
 Makeshift Matter Silver, wood
 Makeshift Matter Silver, wood, bronze
 Makeshift Matter Silver, bronze, lead, steel
 Makeshift Matter Silver, bronze, lead, steel
 Makeshift Matter Silver, bronze, lead, steel
 Makeshift Matter Silver, bronze, lead, steel

Silver Works Balance: Detritus, and Time Well-Wasted
 
Like Lori Anderson's musical treatise in which the act of walking is expressed as a constant falling forward, the artist is generally best kept off-balance. In practice, this stumbling-forward momentum is sometimes done by allowing the hand, eye, and mind to wander in the dubious company of obtuse and uncooperative materials and processes; rough terrain over which any previously held virtuosic skill cannot be carried. These bronze and silver objects are made of, or rather from, foam coffee cups, stir sticks, Post-It Notes, plastic cutlery, toothpicks, old sand-casting patterns. A workbench cluttered with such things can, and probably should, be read like an analog mind-map of the artist in question. As much as it injures my authorial pride, I try no longer to shield myself from the question: What is the primary defect of a mind for which these objects are the primary output… In the end, however, I cannot but resign myself to the burden and privilege of the thing —When God* gives you visions, make visual-aids.

At any rate, it seems I’ve come to the place where, on some days at least, I can no longer distinguish myself from my studio, theory from practice, and in which the ten thousand collected artifacts on my studio shelves preside like jars of preserves: ideas of which the wax-seals have yet to be broken.

*(or his agents, assigns, or representatives – whether declared either by omnipresence or absence)