Anonymous Landscape 1

10" x 10"
oil on canvas
2008

my fascination with the collective human urge to protect, stake claims, and establish ownership has led me to consider land and our feelings toward it. recently, my friend heather and i were discussing the native american outlook on land ownership: that it makes no sense. how does one come to own land? it's the same as stating one can own the air - something free and shared by all. how tragically opposite this outlook is to the american perception of ownership.

i've also been thinking about land as a classified document in and of itself - it hides its history. when we look out at a landscape, the events that have taken place within its boarders are not at all apparent. trees and tall grass can erase the signs of war, and leave us with no signal of its true past. bearing this in mind, putting a fence around that landscape seems redundant - we'll never know what secrets the land keeps.

it is our fear that drives the desire to stake claims and put up fences: stranger danger. we're afraid our neighbors will take what we've worked for... and why not? the history of the world is full of conquest, pillaging, taking. we've shown each other that none of us can be trusted. is that cynical? or is it true? finding answers to these questions is what my practice is trying to uncover. i'm trying to show that, just as easily as we put up fences around a house or farm, we put up frnces around ourselves. we lock each other out. we wait to hear unknowable passwords instead of extending trust or compassion.

i'm trying to see what we've lost in order to know where to go.