projects and pictures

My Mom Sent Me Markers in the Mail

Lisa mailed me a 24 pack of fine-tipped Sharpies and a stack of black-on-one-side-white-on-the-other cardstock. I've been staying up late lately.

Exhibition

Skis for the Epoch of Infinite Olympics

I Make Objects Because I Can't Have Sex
and
Slowly Stirring the Soup
(excerpt from installation)

Despite Best Intentions, the Cosmic Ego Grows

My Mom Sent Me Markers in the Mail
and
Stairs for the Epoch of Infinite Olympics

I Make Objects Because I Can't Have Sex

A Short Song for the Passer-By

The public art portion our sculpture class led me to make this sign. The metal pole was already there with no sign attached, so I took advantage. It points away from the road, across the dried turloch, to my house. I can watch people stop to look at it from the kitchen.

Partial Eclipse

Shot through a welding mask

The Elusive Curlew

For Erin

Despite Best Intentions, the Cosmic Ego Grows

A project in structural engineering from the fifth grade, revisited. It is made of about 5,500 straw segments and dressmakers pins. The form unintentionally grew into a giant phallus/coke bottle, so I took it apart and inverted it in on itself. Now it functions receptively and constructively instead of being a strange monument to manhood or commercialism.

The Epoch of Infinite Olympics

A bright red ski jump in a sheep pasture in rural Ireland.

Slowly Stirring the Soup...

I tempoarily turned my studio into a process based installation. I tried to create a visual dialouge between all of the elements. It also functioned as a way to see how my different projects related to each other as pieces were brought in from multiple, in-progress works.

Paris

The second best city in the world. The first, of course, being Minneapolis.

Dublin

From the Gravity Bar at the Guinness Plant

Food

I eat a lot of butter.

Girlfriend+Beer+Permanent Marker=

Erin came to visit from Prague and we had fun.

The Hatchet Diaries

Pat gave me this hatchet as a gift. I brought it all the way here with some other tools. I decided one restless day to start hacheting a large piece of oak to make some skis. After about fourty minutes of normal use, it broke in half. The blade stayed in the wood and the handle stayed in my hand. It was funny enough to keep me from being angry. I decided that such a practical gift and humorous tool deserved a second shot at life. I fixed it that day and by the next I was chopping away.