anonymity

One of the most important functions as artists is to remain anonymous in the scheme of our pervasive bodies of work. This mirrors our reality as human beings in the scheme of time: we are as integrated, as futile as vast as our imagination of infinity. This notion constantly reinforces itself, as I have been embarking on late-night walks through alley ways. I am not interested in any sort of sociological study derived from the trash in alleys, more, I am interested in the anonymity and humility that presents itself in these night time scenes. I am also searching for symbols of deconstructed American identity (ie broken lamp post) and of course, visual irony (trash in the ocean-themed child's pool).