Costume & Mask
Characters.
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Grinns, 2025.
Papier-mâché mask, assembled clothing. Grinns sits atop your building, and he makes faces; to protect you, of course. His faces are so ghastly and grotesque that anything evil that wants to harm you runs away in fear. He doesn’t even have to use his shiny sharp teeth. He doesn’t even need to lift a solid stony claw. Grinns has a natural talent for the art of pulling faces, because Grinns is naturally very ugly. Grinns has been forgotten by those who made him. The building he sits atop has undergone repaints and renovations, but, stalwart protector he is, he’s never left his post, not even for a second. “Someday I might retire,” he says to a passing pigeon. But who of his old charges survives to relieve him of his duties? So he will remain. Ever present, ever waiting; frightening demons until rain erodes his spiky horns, moss fills his sneering mouth, and all the assassins of time crumble his silent heart. Watch the music video that ties into Grinns's character here! |
Nod, 2024.
Papier-mâché mask, assembled objects / clothing, cardboard diorama, & photomanipulation. I have found myself sailing the river of crystal light more and more frequently. I feel the self I am when I am awake must be infinitely hungry, for though I spend what feels like many days hauling in great netfuls of starlight herring-fish, they never satiate my appetite, and I continue on sailing deeper and deeper into this vast night. I seem to have lost my two companions along the way but I cannot recall their names or how we came to be apart. I sense that I must be searching for them; this must be why, when I nod off, I always find myself back here, in this old shoe, in the center of this deep midnight sea, with no company but the Moon and an expanse of stars below. I will toss this bottle into the twinkling foam and let the current take it where it needs to go—if you find this message, I beg you, tell me how I can reunite with my siblings and if I will ever reel in enough stars to quench this deep emptiness. Yours, Nod |
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