“People want nothing but mirrors around them. To Reflect them while they’re reflecting too. You know, like the senseless infinity you get from two mirrors facing each other across a narrow passage. Usually in the more vulgar kind of hotels. Reflections of reflections and echoes of echoes. No beginning and no end. No center and no purpose.” – The Fountainhead.
With a propensity for lenghty internal monologues, I have come to realize that nothing is new but merely appropriated from something else. There are no new ideas. Although this fact alone may be the source of eternal despair for any creative person, it is both humbling and inspiring. All I can aim to be is a maker - a maker of things; a maker of visual casseroles.