I never expected to take over the family business. As a child I frequently accompanied my parents on their real estate appraisal inspections. We meandered through bogs for hours, and I waited for them to finish with uncomfortably cold, wet feet. During a performance of The Production of Stopping, I found myself on an inspection of sorts. I lingered in a fallow agricultural field muddied by late April showers. Through my practice I investigate places. While a real estate appraisal is based on the ability to determine similarities between multiple parcels, my interest is in exploiting the specificity of a place. I investigate the capacity of agricultural fields, orchards and streetscapes to simultaneously absorb and transform our actions.

The weed-filled parking lots of abandoned shopping malls are neither urban nor wild but a composite of each. These parcels are a vibrant site for investigating the intersections of complex systems. As populations relocate, abandoned parking lots are left to frame vacant shopping malls, creating vacuous spaces that provoke a palpable sense of loss. In An Interlude to Stillness, I loaned my breath to a forsaken place. Attempting to subvert the vacuous nature of the lot, we inflated dozens of cars sewn from second-hand bed sheets using a network of bellows powered by stationary motorbikes.