It is difficult for me to describe the work without providing context, and unfortunately will fail provide much here, but Tinnitus has certainly played a role. My relationship with noise over the past several years has evolved from a source of pain and stress toward a renewed state of harmony and synthesis. Noise to some represents decay, to others represents distortion and fracture; and living with its presence without interruption…and living with it in peace… in stasis… is something I felt I had a duty to artistically see through and leave behind in the world. Given that in my own experience noise is ever-present, I ensured Delirium sought the abolition of time as ordinarily endured. The indefinite looping capabilities of the GIF file format, the format’s inherent constraints, as well as their ability to capture rhythmic musicality remain qualities that I adore.

The Delirium collection is a culmination of a series of experiments I embarked on in 2021 and more formally began calling the “Dark City Experiments” publicly in early 2022. “Dark” because the opportunities I had to create work always took place at night where I often found myself working with the lights off. “City” because the artwork emitted light via my laptop screen and the distinction between light emitted screens as apposed to a light reflecting canvas surface…it was not lost on me. Light emission has been something I’ve consciously observed and have sought to highlight in my work over the past five years.

There have been moments when I've been alone and my eye stops to trust the world and begins instead to trust its own fascination with it. Optical phenomena seem to invite this type of delusion...I think its likely why visual hallucinations are often seen as some kind of creative awakening, as they seem to tell us a conflicting truth about something we thought we were familiar with. I can lean close to the wing of a butterfly for example, or the skin of a soap bubble, or the glazed surface of oil on pavement after rain...and I wouldn't be the first one to do so. The colour then appears where you'd think pigment has no right to exist. The blue is not blue in the ordinary sense of blue and contains a kind of electric energy that feels miraculous. The blue is in motion and is in flux.It is an event. It arrives from structure, from interference, from angles so slight they seem metaphysical. You look again, tilt your head, and the hue slips away like a thought half remembered.The difference here is I am attempting to capture that moment in time indefinitely. Despite not being able to do so, I no longer make the attempt.

Over time, I’ve drawn these kinds of false conclusions from things I have seen in life and in nature. That poor inductive reasoning has carried me somewhere uncommon. I did not set out to leave behind how I used to see colours or form…to leave that solid grounding of “normal” behind. I only followed what I thought was the evidence of light as it scattered and recombined. But the accumulation of small, reasonable steps has altered my footing and will likely continue to change my path creatively. I look at microscopic things as though they were a landscape; where beauty is engineered by scale, and where every shimmer hints at a deeper order. It is a lonely vantage point and the reason I’ve shared this collection is in hopes of ridding myself of that isolation. It is isolated yes but also a luminous one, mysterious and I think beautiful.

- Xer0x