The experimentation that this fucked up year has ushered in for me continues. Hours working from home allows for frequent, albeit short, diversions into my personal work. The equation is simple enough: a stack of negatives, some bleach, sandpaper, a lighter, plastic wrap, sharpies and some time on my hands. What started as a “what if?” proposition has been continually rewarding. From 4x5 negatives to 35mm negatives, from black and white, now to color. Freedom to play, without worrying too much about failure. That is the key, I truly believe it. Failure is often something we try to avoid at all costs. However, without the risk of failure, how do we make discoveries? How do we advance, when we only tread on the well-worn path? I have burned a lot of film this year (wink, wink) and some of it goes promptly into the trash can. Then, every so often, a wonderful moment of happenstance occurs, and I get something that is truly unique. One of a kind, not to be repeated. I think Picasso was credited with saying “Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.” Or maybe it's vice versa. In any event, I’ve embraced this dictum, and it has reaped rewards both large and small. And since making art is often a dispensation of blood, sweat and tears, I’d like to add “blisters” to that list. Nothing like a drop of burning plastic on your finger to remind you what pain feels like.