We see the past through the lens of the present. Points that brought us to where we find ourselves become markers of a path we construct, but which, in reality, is anything but straight. More like finding seeds that begin to grow out of debris we thought we’d abandoned. This is a piece from March, 2013 (#139) that was lost when we fled the Ox. Here was the anti-portrait (what we see is not what we are). There was a dirty, crusted window screen like a veil over the face. The trash assemblages I was making had begun to emerge as paintings. I recognize in this piece a link to what I’ve found opening into the future.