TALK TO STRANGERS #2 [FOR DAVID]
2018
photographic print, paper, resin, acrylic, plexiglass, wire, plywood, 19th century clapboard – 36" x 23" x 1.5"
About the series:
Talk To Strangers [For David] is a series of work inspired by the unanticipated friendships that arise from unexpected, invaluable new connections. The pieces are constructed—in part—from 19th century clapboard, salvaged from a renovated home, coupled with plywood scraps, and digital collages of my own limited-edition photographic prints. David is a long-time Twitter follower who became a friend, and an amazing human being I highly recommend following, particularly for his outstanding commitment to social justice and humanitarian philanthropy (find him on Twitter @bolekaja1001 and support his incredible initiative @AfricaLeko). He’s also someone who values the act of finding beauty in overlooked spaces, like refuge and salvage of all sorts. Like life, the Internet is a swamp most of the time, and we all know it. But not ALL the time. I’ve met a ton of incredible people on Twitter, and when the Internet trolls swarm I have to remind myself — things are not always so bleak. Never let the ugliness obscure or erase all the unanticipated beauty and hidden joy - in physical locations, digital, or any other corner of life.
A few years ago, David started sending me the refuse he finds at job sites so I can incorporate them into my art. I've been anxious as all hell to publicly show my art again after a decade of hiatus - let alone attempt to market it, especially now that I'm unemployed - and trying to sell the things I make that (vaguely, perhaps) keep me sane. David's constant support keeps me going in ways he cannot know. Some things are beyond words. This series is inspired by him, created in part with the refuse in which he saw glimpses of possibility and salvaged with me in mind: may these pieces remind you to always seek the overwhelming beauty lurking around us in the darkest of times, and renew your gratitude for those whose presence makes life not bearable, but full of joy.
A few years ago, David started sending me the refuse he finds at job sites so I can incorporate them into my art. I've been anxious as all hell to publicly show my art again after a decade of hiatus - let alone attempt to market it, especially now that I'm unemployed - and trying to sell the things I make that (vaguely, perhaps) keep me sane. David's constant support keeps me going in ways he cannot know. Some things are beyond words. This series is inspired by him, created in part with the refuse in which he saw glimpses of possibility and salvaged with me in mind: may these pieces remind you to always seek the overwhelming beauty lurking around us in the darkest of times, and renew your gratitude for those whose presence makes life not bearable, but full of joy.
