It seems we spend much of our lives consuming then discarding—leaving the remnants of past projects and ideas to rot under the light of a fading sun. Just as a virus moves through its host, devouring everything it requires to progress, so we too abandon what we no longer need to survive.
Monumental factories, hospitals, and once-homes are left neglected and forgotten, waiting to be retaken by nature or burned by naïve teens in a fit of pyromania. These places where men and women once lived and worked are intriguing in their decay—once a brilliant idea for a business or institution now fades away.
But where most see an eyesore, I view a still-life. They are as beautiful to me now as they were to others decades ago. Hallways, covered with graffiti, still beat with the life of those who once walked them and corridors form eerie pathways to the past. In them, I feel an off inspiration. Using these locales as my canvas, I hope to make a lucid connection between then and now.
Far from ignoring these archaic structures, I find myself compelled to explore and create my art within them. Whether it is a memory of love lost or a journey reconsidered, we have all reflected on our unique histories at one point or another. I wish to embody this reflection in my art.
Society wishes to have these places demolished and forgotten so progress can continue and better things may take their place. But the irony is they too will someday lie derelict—lost to all but our aspirations and fleeting memories.