The award winning “City Symmetry Series” continues my exploration of abstract forms in everyday life. In particular, I believe that symmetries contain a kind of magic, and that broken symmetries are the stuff of life itself. To give visual form to this belief, I photograph office buildings, churches, parks, pavement, trees, sculptures, stairways – most of them in New York City – and place them into mirrored relationships, revealing underlying forces and relationships otherwise invisible to our everyday vision.
“Je raffole de tout ce qui rampe,” she told Van, her cousin and to-be-paramour. “I’m crazy about everything that crawls.” She was the last fictional love of my late childhood, slowly morphing into bursts of confused and chaotic lust.
Exploring the lives or the work of many artistic figures, the fear of their womb of thought becoming a tomb seems to torment them. This might seem paradoxical given the intuitive association of art with originality and the belief that the latter is an intrinsic trait of the firm. Instead, this self-evident thought is transmuted as an esoteric angst, an internalised mission.
Spin your yarn amidst the rubble, he whimpered to himself, curling up against the wall. His platter was still on the ground beside the door, cold and untouched. It had been days since his appetite left him; the mug of water he drank every morning more than sufficient to stave away the pain. Some mornings, he would force himself to tear away at the stale bread, chewing the dough into a mushy pulp.