7.5” x 12” x 2”
resin, epoxy, aluminum shingles, beam clamps, plexiglass, acrylic,
limited edition photo print
This limited-edition mixed media sculpture depicts the unanticipated beauty of an open horizon blocked by the concertina wire that ordinarily marks divisions between the essential fiction of national borders. The image itself is composed of two mirrored photographs, spliced together to give the impression of a globe – rather than the harsh angularity of a barbed wire warning.
Taken at an abandoned church in Atlanta, Georgia – near the location of some of ICE’s most brutal detention facilities, this photographic sculptural series (like much of my work) is as much about the movement of light / shadow (and bursts of hope) through these pieces as it is about the original photographs themselves. Images here reflect the many angles through which light hits the hardened resin and the variety of shadows cast – an intentional reminder that our perspective is everything.
Many years ago, a man I knew quite well told me “your heart is a razor wire pillow,” and I carry that with me: I see those words inscribed on every jagged edged fence, every spiral of bladed, barbed warnings. But the thing is, beauty comes with sharp edges, sometimes. And besides – I’ve always had a deep love for the places to which I am told I should not go.
The world belongs to us all. At least, it should.