I see ?possibilities? now in the photographs I take. The work is heavilyinvested in an epiphany I had at the Art Institute of Chicago with DutchModernist Theo Van Doesburg?s painting Counter Composition VIII. It has an oddtilted framed that seemed to cause me to suddenly see the painting as if it werepopping outof the wall like a pixel. This totally flat plane suddenly was like awindow into another space with multiple white planes; just like the one I was in. In a moment, I had the experience of being unable to any longer precisely define what was real and what wasn? t. It was so quiet, and so satisfying. I can only describe it as if I was suddenlyliberated from some vast decimal system; a sense was granted that there?s more towhat we see around us. We really can move through space, and deconstruct ourhabitual vision. Visually, I have tended to be more of a micro-than a macro-person. I often getso immersed in a subject and magnify it so much that it becomes hard for me tolook at it from a distance. But after this event something happened; I startedproducing work from the painting, and as if falling down a rabbit hole, I didn?tknow where I was going. Things began to gel when the process took me back to aphotograph I had taken in Lahore, Pakistan over a year ago. I began realizing this experience I?d had with the Van Doesberg was something that had been hinted at in other moments, and that I?d been skirting these same insights or experiences in the past, including in this photo from Lahore. I beganusing and manipulating this photo to produce most of the works you see in myportfolio, amplifying and exploring the possibilities of this pixelated, mind-body insight. The writings of Agnes Martin, introduced to me by a professor, really helped me tomake sense of my process and what I was seeing; they gave me full permission tojust trust these strange-seeming intuitions, and explore them. I?ve come to understand my work as a process of actually refining my awareness,and my self. I?ve passed through that boundary where I seem to realize it?s notjust job/ hobby/work anymore. I guess you could call this process ?spiritual?,though that seems limiting. It gives an unknown joy. It makes me value theeveryday details of life?s light, and its shadows. The work is about thequietness of the repetitive patterns of our daily lives. It has its unique rhythmwhich I hear everywhere around me. I see strange systems of chaos and orderaround me; the beauty of monotony, yet the complexity of it at the same time. Thepieces seem to allow me to focus, but then again push me back again so I can seefrom a distance: the tension of micro and the macro.