This work explores the collapse of the boundary between human consciousness and the geological earth. By shattering the traditional, passive pictorial plane of landscape painting, I treat the canvas not as a flat window onto nature, but as a site of physical, elemental rupture. Through a process of excavation and reconstruction, the flat surface is torn open to reveal a pressurized, visceral realm where the human form does not merely exist in the landscape, but actually is the landscape.

An old landscape I painted serves as a historical anchor along the perimeter, a quiet border that is violently compromised by an eruption of raw matter. Using black tourmaline, I construct a dense, light-absorbing topography that evokes the ancient, pressurized voids of the earth. From this primeval field, a fragmented human figure emerges. The heavy torso stands in stark opposition to the clear head, allowing light to pass through the seat of intellect and consciousness, contrasting the dense opacity of the body.

The suspension of the anatomy and the urgent gesture of the hands breaking through the lower register evoke both emergence and creation. This work rejects the notion that humanity is a mere observer of the environment. By literalizing the physical weight of mineral matter, the artwork positions the human body as an extension of the earth itself, an artifact of the Anthropocene emerging from a state of unraveling.