jiffy bags, ink, sand

overall dimensions vary with installation

On one level this work is about hyper-consumption. I question our relentless desire to have anything we want whenever we want it.

On another, it is about loss, which is made apparent when the post keeps arriving for someone who is not there. Despite their absence they continue to consume remotely.

The threshold therefore is not just a place for material transactions but emotional ones also. It is a time and place of reckoning. 

The black sand bags stand in defense, yet their seams are weak.

These silent groupings gathered together are reminders that tenderness and connectivity are sacred in these unstable times.