Grist is assemblage. Cardboard boxes, newspaper, dictionary pages, painted canvas fragments, and waxed twine, all layered, bound, worn down, and built back up.

Scribe is the slow collection. Gray, black, and cream, with color only when it earns its place. Each piece is built through layering, scraping, and sanding until the surface holds the traces of time.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm still holding on to the memories of standing in my Uncle Pard's barn absorbing glimpses of the auction finds that filled the space

Since 2013, I’ve walked past Ted’s scrap yard (or…”recycling center” as he tells it) with my dog Ray, capturing photos of its ever-changing chaos on my iPhone.