I bought the most mutated alligator keychain I could find at the Tallahassee airport and considered it a legitimate symbol of my identity. (I'm interested in the dark side of mass-produced place-based cultural icons.) Soon afterward I was criticized for trying to convince people to share my interests, and around the same time was introduced to the concept of Westerners too often starting sentences with the pronoun "I."
Another Dead Seal
Seals were constantly washing up mauve and bloated on the shores of Marina, California, I believe due to red tide. This one rolled toward me and away at the edge of the tide; I painted during pauses.
Construction Site, East Berlin
The concrete gave way. I couldn't begin to understand the implications of what I was looking at.
I gave myself 2 minutes (maybe 5) to fetishize the non- 90 degree angles and rusty corrugated tin on this house in the Dominican Republic.
The Corner of the Bathroom in the House that Used to Flood
This house doesn't flood now that the city of Tallahassee rebuilt the stream beneath the street. I remember being interested in the futility of things like white paint and clean corners. I explored the history of decay and reclamation through gruesome bits of architecture.