From series: At the Edge of All We Have Built. Which at its core is hopeful. It is the questioning of boundaries, and taking time to look beyond what we've created and have assumed to be true. It is a celebration of those strange, and sometimes lonesome, folks that walk the boundaries.

Visually, the series takes a cue from scenic turnouts—those delightful opportunities to pull off our highways, get out of the vehicle, and walk to the very edge of our infrastructure so that we may gaze at the sheer beauty of nature as it sprawls before us. What if we move off planet—why would we not still build those opportunties? A chance to view a particularly stunning nebulae, galaxies, birthplaces of stars. The characters here are mostly in a contemplative isolation, alone with the vista and their thoughts and questions. And, like the silhouettes common to folktale illustration, they are anonymous and therefore can be any of us, all of us.

Always mixing sci-fi and outer space, big universals, right in with the humble, day-to-day, the personal, and no less so with this series. It is about our end times, it is about where the sidewalk ends, the moment when we have built to the edge of our capacity. And, it is also simply the view a parent most frequently has, especially when your children are teenagers. You have built a family, you have helped children develop skills, morals, and a collection of experiences. You build all this together so that they take it to the very edge, say “what the heck is over there?” —off they go to find out. And, the hope is they are equipped to find out.