Processes captured in monochromatic fragments, motions reduced to
moments of cubist fluidity. Jigsaw bodies composed of competing
perspectives. The canvas is still, yet not static, thriving with frozen
kinetics. Or to quote the ever-cryptic Madam Stein: A picture must not
only be in its frame but it must not, only, be in its frame. Tearing a hole in
realitys membrane, the figures at last spill out of their frames, invading
the world with their twisted aesthetics, imposing a regime of the nonmimetic.
Crickets fall silent as the unbound distillates of creativity roam
the forests. Redefining the world in their wake.