Along the river bank of the Rio Grande, I used a camera with a timer to photograph myself while lying down. I then carefully drew my outline with a found stick, removed a couple inches of earth from the interior of the outline, laid back down and re-photographed. I repeated this process until I was no longer visible.

With this work I was interested in both the physical submersion of my body into the land and the ability of photography to not only document, but to seemingly quicken the process.

While camping at Mulee Point, in Southern Utah, I came across an abandoned sheepherder's shelter. The walls were deteriorated, and the interior was littered with dust, thorns and animal scat. For three days I lived in this shelter, during which I removed the facing stones, cleaned the interior and rebuilt the walls. No entrance was provided. The piece was completed sometime the following year, when a section of the unbroken wall was pulled down, allowing habitation to again occur.

The hutong where this work was constructed had been a living community for at least a few 100 years. A year or so prior to my arrival, it was demolished to expand Beijing's subway system and clear the way for new construction. While the situation is more complicated then I have the tools to fully understand, what I found fascinating was the site's transformation, how walls became waste and the material evidence of lives lived (clothing, toys, cooking utensils) has been scattered across the site.

The structure's form was chosen to loosely reference the shape of the arched crane in this image. By utilizing a physical shape that has found acceptance in this site's current context, in my reconstructing a physical structure from the remains of homes and businesses, I was attempting a redemptive gesture that honored both the sites history and it current state.

These are detail images from a large drawing that was impossible to view in its entirety due to the physical shape of the land where it is contained. The site of this work is a series of large hills made from the bulldozed remains of a recently destroyed village on the outskirts of Beijing. easily found within these hills were broken bits of walls, sections of tile floors, and the clothing of former residents. Also onsite was a large pile of discarded drywall.

To create this work, found pieces of broken drywall pieces carefully shaped and placed in an attempt to mirror the surface of the hills over which these pieces were laid. In this work I was interested in creating an obvious visual disruption in what appeared an innocuous space. This was done with the aim of mirroring the anxiety I felt upon discovering the evidence of a violent erasure of a recently thriving community.

The video component shows stones carried from beyond the horizon line, to a point just to the left of the camera's view. These stones were brought to the gallery and stacked to my height.

The land where this gallery is located, approximately 10 miles away, for much of its history must have looked very similar to the site where the stones were harvested. By bringing these stones into the the gallery, I was attempting to scrape back years of intervention and recognize the land's natural state.