I've always been fascinated with the structure of things. My father was a builder, and from childhood through young adulthood, I assisted him on many projects. We would take a project up to structural integrity, and then the finishers would come in. This sense of potential always struck me as we walked away from a job site. Often, much later, after seeing the completed site, I felt a sense of disappointment when the endless possibilities had collapsed down to something definite.

I've revisited the stack work over the decades as a study in structure to bring the form to its primitive state. I am always trying to distill away the idea of finishing.

In the end, the ultimate finishing is to cast this whole endeavor in gold. Transforming the idea of structure into something timeless.

Put yourself in the middle of a crowded intersection and observe. Watch the people passing, faceless, emotionless, foreign. Where is the transition point when any one of those faces ceases to be strange? How can a mob of faces look uniform and undefined, yet each one is so unique?

This question started a simple process for me to create a person void of my bias as a sculptor—my hands' tendency after forming countless faces to some unconscious ideal.

By only using elemental forces to form the most primitive structures, water, dirt, and gravity, each element, each piece of the face, is simply a loop of lifting and throwing the clay to the ground allowing the faces to emerge.

It pains us to speak in platitudes because our hopes deflate when we add nothing new to the solution space.

Everything we are, go to war for, idolize, is here because of this brilliant fire in the sky.

Solis is my mediation on the greatest platitude of all and helps one remember that the sun will rise in the morning.