While I am drawn to the deceptively simple elegance and character of, for example, an egg, it's the houses, the structures, that get uncomfortably clumsy and maybe a little weird (it's all relative), where I find the most. Where I get lost.

When I last worked on this piece, as the clock ticked past midnight, I said "one more hour and I have to be done." And again at 1 am and 2 am. And 3, 4, and 5 am. As the sun started to rise, I was finished. My eyes parched and head cooked. A good tired.

This is an invention based on an abandoned house just east of the Cascades. The figure, based on my cooperative wife. The house a vessel for stories. It's always tempting to let skill lead the way, but the shoved and scraped paint felt right. Maybe more so as a departure from that elegance in the eggs.