Artist statement: Had it been so many years since this place was first marked? Paint spattered, leather bound, excavated and forged upon maps? Our families all came, hoping to carve their independence from the scattered dirt. The kind of hope that can only be gained in a world where kings are no longer made by blood but by rock. The dirt doesn't deliver anymore, hasn't in a while. For when they look out upon this broken landscape, I wonder if they ever think; as if the gods were made of dust.