I grew up watching my father transform a small plot of land into the place I called my home.  He bought almost five acres of open space when I was four.  After the previous occupants were loaded into a trailer and hauled away, he scraped up the layer of grass they ate and replaced it with Kentucky Blue.  Rows and rows of pine trees were planted and a well was dropped.  He designed and built our house, centered within a serene landscape and surrounded by cornfields.

This transformation of landscape has profoundly affected my work.  Land itself can be altered and manipulated to create a completely different environment.  We as a mass, have blocked rivers and diverted them to new endings, cut mountains in half to explore and remove their innards, and dumped burnt cities into lakes to extend the shoreline for building.  We travel beyond our own sphere to see what is out there.  Can we find another place?  Can it be made suitable for habitation?  My interest lies in humanities capability to transform our surrounding habitat, questioning the need for adaption. 

With this in mind, I draw attention to this change in the landscape.  My work is an alteration of the land beyond its original, manipulated state.  Thus creating a new man-made environment.  They appear vast and desolate, and yet define their space with rigid edges.  There is an unknown need for an exploration of this space.  A goal to find the possibilities of what can or should exist here.  There is a desire to own the space.  A want to use it.  A need to manipulate it; to pull back the surface and connect to what lies beneath.  Ultimately, redefining what land is.