14902909_1448744098488358_16238328331273

projection, neon, mdf wood 2016

experimenting with light, space and sound, this piece is a safe space for the mind where the concept is pure experiential. the ambience of sound of the michigan lake waves and the illuminance of the blue, white and aquamarine lights create a subtle horizon line of the sky and body of water which is best experienced in person. the audience is welcomed to an enclosed space which brings forth a sense of change in placement to the “other” and are confronted with a body of text which ties together the sublime, His presence, something out of the this world to something on this earth, the lake. 

dear wave,

from where have you come and for how far have you travelled? like the prophets you’ve come so far to reach the shore in hopes of your remains to touch a single heart. you splatter and foam and race the other waves to reach a place so corrupted through bloodshed and greed. you abandon your loved ones and your home only to mate with the wind to help swim you away from us for a single second.

if we had hearts like yours, to love so generously, if we had souls a virgin to the devil perhaps your pilgrimage would be unnecessary. but what about your tired soul, beautiful wave? you’ve swam the seven seas and kissed every shore He blessed us with but for what cause and what good? our hearts impure and eyes blinded, no one is around to appreciate, to kiss the drops that you soak into the sands at shore. we’ve built fences of stone, barriers, walls and dams against your touch. no one is there to caress your broken heart. we’ve consciously cut you off from our homes. no door is here to welcome any of His gifts, yet here He is, always, knocking on our doors bearing gifts.

and He is always there. no wall can reach the heavens, his throne, his heart and block his sight. no sin so terrible makes Him step back one foot in grief. just like you, dear wave, who never ceases to touch our hearts. a drop of your offspring onto our lips is just as holy as the spring of zamzam.


your water once so pure and now infected by our blood - yet still you are the keeper, the mother, of a all the pure hearts.