In the relative now cement has always been available, sitting around towns and cities in dusty paper bags. It was Dan Geraci of Pescadero who introduced me to the real world of cement, before that it was simply dust. I now see it for its curious ability as both a material and a glue, a paint and a surface, at first a strange liquid moving towards becoming solid. From the first esoteric excursions into the ever-present mystic glue of modern life, I encountered my first cement mold object, constructed by Dan; unexpected and rudimentary in aspect, with a pre-industrial preternatural aura. I needed to see what my own molds would look like, things made by hand grow with a singular purpose, devoid of an intentional aesthetic. Similar in this way to the first objects made by human hands; devoid of embellishment, existing from a need of some basic function, like a chimps ant collecting stick. It was the mold object itself that drew me in.
I was born in Daly City California because that was the nearest hospital to the rural outer-lands on the southern peninsular of San Francisco Bay. The ‘tech’ rush weighed heavily in the area but somehow during that age this region was disconnected enough to allow a micro-climate of another existence.
It was that other existence that remained in my mouth after a degree in Biochemistry from UCD and experience with academia and industry. Despite my scientific inclinations, a different future felt essential, and the whole big mess of existence in the face of ecological collapse seemed better addressed through art.
A longing for science is still there in the art, science is part of my art, and the discipline from its practice cannot be unlearned. On some days I look into the space that resides between the two. It’s not clear what that space looks like or if it exists.
Regardless, art is probably the best way to describe what he does now, and that sits somewhere between objects and simply existing.
I live between two places currently, carrying alongside visions of the marsh and tides I grew up exploring. The marsh has become a symbol of the space between. In part because historically, the marsh exists for humans as a sort of non-place, not land not water, but instead, ‘wholly unproductive’ (The Earth as Modified by Human Action, Marsh – 1874). A place worthy of paving over. For those who know the truth, the marsh is an essential peripheral zone of human life.
Enjoying the view along the way, there are days I want to eat the view, so it can be part of me forever, though more in a way so the landscape eats me and I am part of it. A likeness is similar to finding your virtual remains on the internet and realizing that you are an actual being living on the face of this planet.
Following ideas like this, I make things and get a little closer to a feeling you can’t quite put your finger on but could approximate through envisioning another world, then I remember, that world might be exactly like the one you’re on.
