Project

From apartments in Boise, Oakland, Portland, the Shumagin Islands; on scrap wood, pillow cases, bedroom doors salvaged from demolished houses. There was a series of nudes drawn from anatomy books on a derelict yacht, map table as easel; 4 songs recorded in the wheelhouse of a 100 year old salmon tender laid up for the winter; flash-glare photos documenting a 2-year-long near-death experience from Skagway to La Spezia to San Francisco, re-evaluated in charcoal in the attic of a boat repair shop floating in the Wrangell Narrows. Don’t throw out the boxes, we’re not really staying. After a few months, a makeshift recording studio forms in a spare room by accretion, 2x4’s and plywood hold up a drawing in progress. Begin, again, the Incompletable Task. There is a trauma inherent to endlessly cascading from one moment to the next. Relationships evolve, businesses fail, circumstances become untenable. Societies are comprised of semi-permeable barriers. Seeking growth, advantage, or simply the lowest point: the net effect is filtration of the self. Enduring themes are a nearness to the sea and scavenged materials. Always trying to do more with less, but there’s always plenty lying around: these lonely stretches are where every kind of thing washes up eventually.

glennwarmack@gmail.com