Mourning Dove (a short film)
October 5, 2019
The result of months of crazed insomnia and mania. Lying awake at night with my mind racing, images and phrases fluttering through the inner space like flocks of birds. Going through the extreme highs and lows of emotions leaving me utterly mentally exhausted. Dealing with the turbulence of ones mind has led me to this project. Forming upon all the textures, sounds, and swirls of sentiments and dreams to a night fully devoted to creative renderings of it all. Drawing on the perpetual chaotic harmony of memories, emotions, and infatuations.
(Click photo to play)
Al Mare Da Sola (Photography book)
Paris at night alone. Cigarettes growing from the ground. Thirty mile walks in the rain. Come ride along on my experience traveling in solitude in Europe with my camera, some spare change, and my beating heart to keep me company.
Available for purchase here: https://www.blurb.com/b/9566308
Birds After Rain: A Video Installation
Exhibited at OnArt Gallery Firenze
When we die, once our heart stops beating and the life has gone from our eyes, there is a single moment in which our brain has not yet crossed that dark threshold and it goes through one’s entire life worth of memories one last time. Visions and emotions that no longer exist, cloaked in melancholia, some sparkling with joy and sun and others somber, only figments and creations in my mind. I have been obsessed with this idea for a very long time, a long lived infatuation for our last few moments of existence and the afterward. My way of dealing with and understanding my memories and emotions is through this installation. I was introduced to the concept of death very early in my life and my memories are all I have. Some are more delicate, left behind, faded and fragmented, and others lucid and vibrant with images and sensations, many of them bleeding into one another. As time has gone by, more memories of unrequited love, loss, and anxiety have clouded my world. My father passed away suddenly when I was six years old, I fell in love with a man who would never love me back, I slipped into deep emotional episodes and experiences, and now I offer my vulnerability of the dimensions of these extremely personal memories through this work. Memories are storms of my past senses and feelings, swirls of nostalgia and longing. The act of remembering feels as if I am floating through strange and altered passages of time, remnants of what once was, moments through a vast space suspended in time. Illusions of euphoria and reflections in tender words, a longing for things that were never there or are never coming again, crowd these storms. And yet, there is still a beautiful and painful harmony to the replaying of all these once tangible experiences and sentiments.