At one time I believed in knew the exact location of every cap and acorn I collected from under an Oak tree. Now I don’t, and as beneficial as that is, it causes me great emotional pain. The self-assurance and faith in a rational system I created of mapping, numbering, collecting, cataloging and documenting collapsed because of a missing acorn cap. The instance of pain that I interpreted as failure, became a profound moment that shifted Fuller & Grand away from an honest attempt at an irrational undertaking into one of self-discovery. A simple careless mistake has made me realize this project isn’t about randomness found in natural events, but the values derived from the time and labor I invested in the work process.
The remnants and physical marks left over from my practice are the result of an embodied experience in a quest for perfection in an imperfect world. What I find fascinating and compelling are the spaces within my mind created at the same time. How do they act as a barrier and facilitator? Why do I feel compelled by questions I can’t answer and driven by latent ones I don’t know? Why am I attracted to moments of failure that manifest themselves over time? There is a constant friction between the need to answer these questions and the longing for solitude brought about by repetitive work. It’s through this state of flux that I try to come to terms with my humanity and the need to find order in the world around me. That singular moment of experiencing failure became the sublime landscape of my mind that I navigate through.