In his description of Gordon Matta Clark, author James Attlee says that the artist “…was always looking for wormholes, escape hatches, exits through which he could tumble to another level”. With a similar spirit of exploration, I carefully scan my physical surroundings for interruptions, anomalies, or narrow passages of space as entry points for further investigation. I’m particularly interested in those places where human constructs intersect with things outside their sphere of influence, control, understanding or intention. Discovering the rugged topography of a ‘flat’ wall, the irregular edge of a snapped chalk-line, and a contrail filled sky are just a few examples of this relationship. With careful observation, these are places where distinctions become blurred giving rise to questions about labeling in the first place. Is a contrail entirely a human creation? Is a straight line really as precise as it presents itself to be? At what scale is the wall no longer perceived as flat? Paying careful attention to our physical world ultimately implicates and leads to our own structures of meaning. Our ways of compartmentalizing, generalizing and framing information are called into question as certain delineations become blurred. I’m interested in these imprecise visual and conceptual regions that beckon a much closer look.